


The Old Republic: Freelancers

by Daedamnatus



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Adventure, Coruscant, Crime, Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Interspecies Sex, Male-Female Friendship, Non-Human Relationships, Ord Mantell, Other, Pregnancy by Jedi, Romance, Sith Possessiveness, Twi'lek slaves, Umbaran Mind Tricks, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:10:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1366765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daedamnatus/pseuds/Daedamnatus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tales of a young bounty hunter, a Sith Warrior, an Umbaran Mandalorian and more mercs trying to make their way in the galaxy. (Some violence, some sexual themes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The light started to fade on the flank of the apartment tower as she waited outside in the airspeeder, observing the traffic down below through the side viewport. No lights could pierce the darkness of the lower city of Coruscant. And not from this altitude. She imagined dropping a glowstick to see just how far it would go before disappearing, or smashing in someone's windshield, causing an accident.

Running out of patience, she looked herself in the rear view monitor, adjusting a few locks of black hair behind her ears, fixing an eyelash that was bothering her during the flight. Her lips felt dry and she'd forgotten to bring some balm with her. Oh well. Even though he wouldn't be looking at her that closely she needed to feel good about herself, however vain that seemed.

Finally there was movement on the balcony she was stalking, a door slid open and a black shadow with red trims walked out on the ramp to sit itself heavily on her passenger's seat.

"Long day at the office,  _My Lord_?"

An armored hand touched the door switch to closed position. "Just drive," he said with a sigh.

Smiling to herself she pulled the speeder away from the balcony and headed towards the floating skylanes. Rush hour, too late to find a shortcut, and she could use the quality time spent in traffic before they reached destination. Something was bothering him, it showed even though he was wearing a mask. Drake and her had been friends for as far as she could remember; fate had just decided for him to be... different.

"I'm glad you got here," he said, "what I need right now is a fresh glass of  _no authority_."

"Can't do much about that with the creepy suit on." Daen reached for the on-board computer to activate the music station, setting it on low volume.

He turned his masked face towards her. "After all these years you still don't appreciate the uniform. It's got more class than your friends' merc gear."

"They do what they can to get by," she said, "and you can blame your colleagues for spreading the bad rap on your  _uniform_."

She didn't need to remind him about the assault on the Jedi Temple, not today. Still there were times when she wished she had been there to change his mind about volunteering. They would have run away together and stayed under the radar while the galaxy dealt with its problems alone.

"Look," he called out, pointing a gloved finger towards a skyscraper ahead. "They finished that new tower last month. You talked about moving here before, haven't you?"

"Drake, I was  _twenty_. And have you seen the rent in this district?"

"Those are really nice apartments, I looked it up on the Net."

"I couldn't afford it, not even if I turned my family to the Hutts."

The Ceras were banned from Nal Hutta because of a sabotage mission going wrong. Mak Cera – Daen's adoptive father - had miscalculated the explosive charges on a precision strike, destroying the wing of a Hutt palace. Then Load had tried minimizing the damage by taking out half of the guard, and stealing cargo on the way out. All repairs were paid but they were to never set foot on the planet, or cross path with Hutts again.

Drake touched the computer screen to browse her comms and she had to swat his hand away, knocking into the Cotorsis gauntlet which hurt a little.

"What are you doing? That's my privacy you're nosing into."

"You really have too much stuff in this database. What if someone steals your speeder, huh? No more work, no more credits."

"Oh," she took a sharp turn to pass a vehicle on her left. "Because moving in with you and living off your Imperial paychecks is the better option?"

His voice became softer. "You should be more open to the opportunity. It wouldn't cost you anything, just like living in your parents' freighter. Only in a bigger place and I'll be right next door instead of having you coming all the way over here."

They finally got into the entertainment district. Daen found their usual parking lot in a lower basement beneath a commerce tower and turned the music off with a flick of her thumb behind the steering handle.

"You know that I like being on the move," she tried to say with more calm. "No attachments, no restraints."

"I know, we had this conversation before." He shifted in his seat and reached behind them while she parked the speeder. "You made your own choices and I respect them."

She switched the head lights off and extracted her key card from the console, then darkness filled the compartment. Drake handed her the gloves and helmet she had kept on the backseat.

"We turned out okay, you and I," she said with a light pain in her chest.

She could only see him as a shadow reaching both his hands to his head. The next thing she heard was his own voice, husky and unfiltered. "I never doubted that."

He moved in to kiss her. Touching his bare face she closed her eyes, feeling the softness of his cleanly shaved cheeks, then her fingertips met a painfully deep scar under his jawline. She repressed a sob. They met once a year at best and every time she discovered new wounds, and worse disfigurement. Even if she did not ask who had done that to him she knew he was feeling her anger.

Sith warriors constantly fought and tricked eachother for power, to gain rank and impress their masters, but she tried not to wrap her mind around it. The sight of one of them walking around in Drake's same cloak and armor was enough to make her blood boil.

Pulling away from him she sniffled loudly and wiped her hands up her forehead to flatten the hair on her scalp. She slipped the helmet on, clipping the seals down on her collar and watched the HUD system come online. With her own gloves on she was now confined in the isolated climate of her suit, with its heavy plating and hidden artillery in almost all places. The anonymous mask and the threatening look of her outfit made her feel closer to him somehow.

Drake nudged her back to her senses and they exited the vehicle. "Come on, we got work to do."

They got to the open air plaza of the entertainment district which was crowded with more lifeforms than a small planet could withstand. It was night time, but the numerous signs and colored neon lights made it as bright as noon. Daen had trouble sorting through her biological filters and her HUD kept focusing its scans on every new species or humanoid that walked by.

Drake kept a short lead on her left – only a head taller than her, the crowds seemed to part in front of him like pushed away by an invisible shield. But seeing the look in their eyes and optical organs it was clear that none of them wanted to come close to a Sith. It was nice not bumping into them but she felt exposed, and observed. Turning her head slightly towards them was all they needed to suddenly go about their business.

"They remember you," Drake said, hardly covering his voice. A female Rodian startled before cowering deeper into the crowd. "Soon you won't need to send out resumes to find work."

"To me they seem more fascinated by their shoes right now."

"Don't let that fool you," he scornfully replied, "with a passive attitude and false concern in the eyes, anybody seems innocent."

She smirked beneath her helmet, sent back into her memories from a time when he wasn't even an Imperial yet. "But  _you_  know better, don't you."

Turning his head towards her she couldn't see his mask because of the hood of his cloak, luckily the crowds became less dense now and she walked up to his level, careful not to step on his draping.

"Times don't change that much," he said.

She nodded, spotting the lounge where they had to make contact with an informant. She had no idea who it was, it changed every year.

"Go around the back," Drake told her. "If our Jedi is in there he'll most likely take the service exit once I come in."

She threw a look inside the lounge – a strip club, really – and held her hands to her hips.

"What if he gets stupid and makes a scene?"

She heard a small chuckle behind his mask that wasn't picked up by his communicator.

"Too much collateral in there, no Jedi would risk waving a lightsaber two paces away from hot lekku."

It wasn't the first time they were hunting together, most of times simple criminals that harmed Imperial interests. Drake was trained for far worse but he chose the little jobs too... just to be with her, maybe? Daen followed his instructions before her thoughts became irrational. Finding a back alley around the square building the service door was exactly where she expected, but a bouncer stood there. A tall green-skinned Twi'lek who seemed to spend his daytime at the gym and the rest at the local fast-food diner. Daen walked carefully up to him, hands at her sides to show peaceful intent.

"I'm waiting for someone."

The bouncer with the large green head-tails opened his red eyes wide. "You!... You work with the Sith- My apologies, sorry." He pushed the door control and it slid open. "Didn't realize at first, you know..."

Caught aback by his reaction she went along with it and entered the bass-abusive music-blasting smoky establishment. People dressed in their best party attire sized her up like she was the worse looking alien they'd seen, others cowered in that familiar docile attitude she noticed in the streets earlier.

"Don't worry," she mumbled to herself. "I won't confiscate your death sticks."

She was stopped by a line of females waiting to go to the sanitaries, but the main room was dead ahead, with tables, stages, strobe lights and really loud suggestive music that she had to filter out in her audio settings. There were a few humans but mostly Twi'leks dangling their lekku around, twisting and performing for credit chips. The patrons had portable devices that made it easier to tip if they wanted to.

Daen stood there, almost mesmerized by the multiple shows and tried not to let her mind wander. There were booths on the far left side of the lounge and a waitress was bending over to a customer, hard to see in the dim lights. The Twi'lek stood up and pointed across the room then a black shadow rose in front of her. Daen focused in her HUD to zoom in the picture. Black gloved fingers slid around the face of the purple-skinned waitress who smiled and winked at the man standing over her.

Typical, she thought. Unable to watch, finding it hard to breathe she forced herself to stay alert and pay attention. Someone came into her field of vision, all blurry and out of focus.

"Are you waiting in line?" shouted a female voice. It was strange to even find any female customers in here. Daen stepped aside and shook her head so that the young lady could walk away. "Oh, good. Thanks."

Hastily moving forward she needed to keep track of Drake but he was nowhere to be seen. Proceeding further inside would break the trust he had put in her, her place was at the back door. Once outside again the green bouncer revealed his sharp yellowish teeth in an annoyed expression.

"Couldn't find who you were looking for?"

"Hard to say at this time." A diplomatic answer, she felt proud of herself.

Then, with surprising speed someone bolted out of the door, sending the Twi'lek guard spinning and eventually falling to the ground. A blur of brown robes stopped at the opposite wall of the back alley, a male human Jedi with the typical Jedi outfit, armor, cloak, boots and unmistakable lightsaber hilt in hand.

She raised her blaster pistol knowing she wouldn't stand a chance against a Force-wielder who could swat away her shots like a mild annoyance.

"Freeze! Drop your weapon," Daen shouted at the top of her lungs. Once again, a pointless strategy given the situation. But a decade of police training still had a hold on her reflexes.

The young man – six feet tall, dark hair, light complexion - ignited his lightsaber illuminating the dark alley with a blue and white flash. With his other hand he showed his open palm; Daen felt the grip on her weapon loosen as if invisible strings were pulling away from her. She cussed out loud, knowing she was losing her focus and needed a new strategy. Where was Drake now that she was finally in front of a Jedi?

Acting on impulse, she dropped her weapon which flew off and threw herself forward on her unusual adversary. He caught the blaster he seemed so eager to catch with his Force trick which gave Daen the needed distraction to swing an armored foot up the back of his left knee where there was no protection. He fell on his side with a yelp. Daen saw her blaster dropping but was too busy getting back on her feet, and activating through her helmet the only weapon at her disposal that the Jedi couldn't bat off with his lightsaber: the gauntlet-mounted flamethrower.

The HUD flashed a warning in the middle of her field of vision: INCENDIARY FLUID FAILURE.

"What the frig?" she hissed.

Everything went blurry when the Jedi charged her, blazing blue saber raised to strike her down and she saw a flash of pure white, lifted her arms up as a reflex to protect her head. She fell on her back as something sparkled and she smelled charred metal. The bright blue light had disappeared in a shriek and the Jedi stood there, baffled at his deactivated weapon. Thank you Cotorsis plates, she thought.

More warnings popped up and blinked around in her HUD telling her that her weapon diagnosis system wasn't happy. THE FOLLOWING DEVICES ARE DAMAGED OR DISCONNECTED: GRILL – POISONATOR – FISHING LINE – KITCHEN KNIFE. So much for renaming her devices while bored. She really needed to modify the notification settings when she got back home. If she made it alive.

The alley was dark but a red light appeared accompanied with a low hum and the Jedi reignited his lightsaber. Daen got up again, now ignored by her opponent who focused all of his attention on Drake.

"Took  _you_  long enough!" she sighed, picking up her blaster from the concrete ground.

Holding his red lightsaber in a low guard he barely turned his head to her. "You could use some practice." He nodded in direction of her hands. "You alright?"

Her heart was already racing from the adrenaline and it got a little worse. "Yeah," she said, breathing slowly.

The Jedi used the downtime to rush in for battle, both hands gripping his weapon tightly as he attacked. Drake immediately blocked his attempts at going through his defense, and pushed him ten feet away with his own powers. Daen wasn't a fan of Force displays, it made her feel helpless even when she wasn't involved in the duel.

The man looked a little dizzy from the invisible blow but got back into the fight, exchanging violent strikes against Drake again. Daen stepped back, mesmerized by the performance. Laser blades clashed and flashed until all of them turned their attention to the door as it opened again. A Twi'lek woman – young as well, probably still a teenager – stood there, eyes wide in shock at the scene.

"Liina!" said the Jedi, obviously worried and upset.

The blue-skinned girl – a dancer, by the looks of her outfit – hid her mouth with her hands and started to cry. "Harek, I'm so sorry!"

The only one who made abstraction of her interference was Drake. He pointed his blade in a horizontal angle and pierced the chest of the Jedi. Daen fought not to look at the girl's face when she cried a loud "No!", and picked up the discarded lightsaber. The red light from Drake's own weapon faded and he stepped away from the lifeless body.

The Twi'lek called Liina cradled the dead man in her arms, sobbing. Daen just wanted to leave her there and move on, but Drake stood over the girl.

"This is Sith controlled territory," he said, speaking softly but he sounded really annoyed. "He knew what the stakes were."

"But he meant nothing wrong!" she whimpered, combing the Jedi's hair with her blue fingers. "You didn't have to kill him!"

"It's my job to keep the people safe here, young lady. I should arrest you for endangering us all by bringing a Jedi within our borders."

"That doesn't make any sense," she protested.

Daen watched him kneel down to her level, he rested a hand on her shoulder and murmured. "He was using you for his own interests and assassinated many of our agents. He made you believe that he had feelings for you... but you know better now."

She almost instantly stopped sobbing and moved away from the corpse. With a black-gloved thumb Drake dried a tear from her cheek.

"I... I should go back to work," she said with an even voice. "From now on I'll stay away from the Jedi and customers who won't pay me."

And she strode back inside the club. Drake lifted his left arm up and tapped something on the inside of his gauntlet before walking out of the alley with Daen.

"That was awfully kind of you," she commented.

He grabbed her arm to examine the damage caused by the Jedi's blade before the Cotorsis plating could block it. There was a burned hole in Daen's combat suit showing her left wrist charred on the outside. It hurt like hell.

"Nothing a little Kolto can't fix," she said.

He looked at her through his mask. "When will you let me teach you to fight properly?"

She freed herself and they kept moving down the plaza, as two regular pedestrians at night. "I know you mean well but I'd rather have a strictly  _casual_  relationship with you." There were dancing colored lights on a panel advertising a new holovid game and she let her eyes wander. "And Mak wouldn't be too happy about me training with a Sith."

Drake remained silent and she pondered whatever made him hesitant to reply. They arrived in front of the theater where a mass of people were gathered on the sidewalk and they looked at the strange couple, from a safe distance.

"You chose the right people to surround yourself with, Daen. No matter what they say."

She looked at him and met his gaze. That mask of his had become a reassuring sight. "I'm glad you think that, it matters a lot to me."

Twenty eight years old and no place of her own, recently laid off, still single and no kids, she had lots of reasons to feel insecure. When she wasn't helping Mak and Mora with private shipping – aka. smuggling – she traveled alone: scavenging ghost ships, bodyguard contracts, escorts, spying... And when she got tired she found Drake for a few days. He was her anchor to sanity and she liked to believe that he needed her, too.

They went back to his apartment where she could station her speeder in a private hangar, next to his own "Sith bike". It was a place he rarely used and never had anyone coming over for dinner so it looked bland like a hotel room.

"If you ever need paintings or nice decorations I can hook you up."

The walls were black, the carpet was black, the lights were dim. Perpetual darkness. With his red-trimmed cloak Drake looked like a piece of furniture himself.

"You're welcome to arrange it to your liking if you stay," he replied.

Out of her armor and into her sleeping slacks she went to stand at the window on the balcony and looked at the starry sky. Ships flew by with their bright traffic lights and ion engines powering up to pierce the atmosphere. Projectors slowly swiped the landscapes to position the highest towers, air speeders and taxis sparkled the invisible lanes below. Hours would pass by and she wouldn't get bored of watching Coruscant.

"I could get used to this," she thought out loud, playfully tugging at the bandage on her wrist.

He stood beside her, she felt a hand around her back and warm air in her neck. "Then don't fight it," he said.

She mustered the courage to look into his hazel eyes. His skin was as pale as she remembered, and this time he had cut his sand-colored hair a little shorter. The scar she had felt earlier went from beneath his chin to his right cheek, still red and swollen. A laser blade wound for sure.

"Another Sith did that to you, wasn't it?"

He nodded lightly and leaned on the railing. He wore the plain black clothes all warriors wore under their armor. "Yesterday. An apprentice challenged me after we had a little argument."

"An argument..."

"It doesn't matter now," he said after a pause. "He payed his arrogance with an arm and a leg. He gave his life for his stupidity."

" _Fierfek_ , Drake. He almost cut your head off."

"Almost," he smiled. "I made tea."

She smiled back, it was so like him to go from terrifying stories to the mundane and innocent. It was probably that side of his person that helped him survive the Sith Academy.

"Of course you did."

They went back inside and the lights increased gradually, allowing her to look through her food cabinets and storage closets. There wasn't much to be found except for the basics.

"You won't find anything to steal here."

"Huh," she responded before sitting at the counter as he poured her a cup. "I don't  _steal_."

"Then if I go through your things now I won't find Harek's lightsaber?"

"Harek?"  _Frig, I forgot that poor bastard's name already._  "He didn't need it anymore."

According to Drake: killing people everyday was fine but stealing wasn't, and she spent her life salvaging other people's belongings. Daen bit the inside of her lips to keep herself in check.

"No." He sat opposite to her and looked at the wall for a moment. "A Republic spy would have used a better cover. Why send a Jedi?"

She slowly sipped the tea. "Maybe he did come to see that dancer after all?"

"In his robes and armor? It doesn't add up. No Jedi stands a chance in these parts."

His hands around the ceramic cup were rugged and there was some bruising. Daen had noticed the metallic knuckle pads on his gloves and they matched the markings on his skin. Yet another hint of how brutal his daily life was. She replayed the duel in her head.

"Is it true that he killed those agents?"

He looked at her straight in the eye before answering. "He might have."

"You could interrogate that Twi'lek later on, she might know stuff about her HoloNet lover."

A smile stretched his lips thin. "You believe that's how they met?"

"Everyone gets bored. Don't tell me you've been busy everyday since the peace treaty."

"My butt itches when I sit around for too long."

She nudged his arm with a cocky grin. "But you  _love_  texting me. For  _hours_. You have no idea how many times I risked my life to send you a reply."

"Right, because you have so much to do."

"Hey I may be unemployed but I ain't idle. Get yourself an obedient house slave if you want dinner and something to screw once a week."

Drake shrugged innocently. "Believe what you want, that's not my style-"

He froze in the middle of his sentence like he'd heard something.

"Ugh," she complained. "The Force is paging you?"

Checking the chrono on the wall's holo display, he put his tea cup down. "I may have to head out to the Academy soon."

"No time for a quickie?" she suggested hesitantly and followed him into his room.

"Afraid not." He grabbed a piece of armor, turned around and pulled her against him. She felt him rest his chin on her head. "But hold on to that thought."

He had different sets of the same outfit and armor and she helped him put on a clean one. After he had all the plates equipped and adjusted he grabbed his mask and she got him in his red-trimmed black cloak.

"So this time it's not safe to be seen together?" she asked, heart pounding. The idea of being left alone while he was out there always made her go irrational.

Lightsaber clipped to his belt, he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and he was all set. "You have the key codes to come and go as you please. Can you fix up something to eat for when I get back?"

"What?!"

"Ha ha," he said and poked her nose. "Gotcha."

She watched him leave with determination, not looking back and certainly not saying goodbye. Whatever was waiting for him at his headquarters she trusted he could deal with. For her part it was time to tend to her damaged suit.

She brought her belongings into the living room to work on her sewing skills and something dropped to the floor with a muffled thud. The Jedi's lightsaber. Daen picked it up, examined it closely to find any kind of marking on the metallic hilt. Her eyes stopped on the ignition switch.

"You're not  _that_  retarded now," she said to herself.

Holding the silver tube as far as her arm went she squinted and pressed the button down. It shrieked and emitted that bright blue light she had seen earlier. Disconcerted by the absence of additional weight, she tried waving the thing around and heard it humming in the air. All of the sudden she imagined a similar light appearing in front of her, a red one, held by a black figure standing over her.

She pressed the button again and watched the blade disappear along with the creepy vision. The weapon had lost all its fantastic might on her and she just left it far away on the low table.

If another hunting opportunity presented itself she would have to get used to all of this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The elevator stopped with a loud crank and the lights in the ceiling flickered, as if there wasn't enough energy to power the door mechanism at the same time. Lodius stepped out of the hazardous cabin and walked down the dim lit hall that lead to his apartment. It was the middle of the day, everybody was out working to afford the ridiculous rent here. With his armored boot he swept a pile of flimsi ads away from his doorstep and inserted his keycard to enter. He wondered why he needed one, he had nothing to hide.

But everything to conceal, so this  _home_  was empty and he just needed to lie down until it was night time again. With his datapad propped up on his stomach to read himself to sleep, the scraping and scratching sounds in the wall behind him kept him very much awake. This rat situation was getting worse every day. His eyes wandered around the picture of a suspect, a female humanoid whose eyes were a little too close together to seem trustworthy. He was one to speak, never showing his face in public, never trusting anyone in the first place.

The bleep of the chronometer alarm on his gauntlet tore him out of his slumber. All thoughts of dreams and laze slipped out of his mind as he got off the bed and stripped of his clothes and armor. Even those who lived in the shadows needed to clean, sometimes. He didn't like bathrooms, though: he caught his reflection in the mirror and barely recognized himself. Tall, his hairless head was morbidly pale, blue eyes abnormally bright and sunken in deep black orbits. But he knew that according to his species' standards he looked healthy, incredibly fit, too. That was all he needed to know for now.

The second alarm rang on his gauntlet when he was outside, nineteen-hundred hours, and his appetite was rising. Food could wait - hunger was actually an excellent drive for the hunt. With the sun lowered behind the high horizon on Coruscant he didn't feel conspicuous, walking across the plaza in front of the Sith Headquarters. There were lots of bounty hunters like him around here since the Empire had commandeered the area and established clear rules of engagements regarding the non-Sith, or simply the non-aligned. With his dark armor and exposed instruments of destruction people wouldn't mistake his colors.

He waited a couple minutes on the plaza, time enough to memorize all the different shapes and species of mongrels who worked there and he could almost tell the Sith adepts apart now. Many Humans, he noted, holding their datapads close to their chest while walking up the steps on their way to manipulation and dark rumination class. A group of plain tunic-wearing Sith students walked out of the building, chatting lively with an air of cunning satisfaction on their faces. One of them broke out of the clique to walk straight to Lodius, waving to her friends. It was the narrow-eyed blond that pretended to be a Sith. He waited for her to hurry up to him.

"Lodius Cera?" She extended her hand out. He looked at it but made a point of making no physical contact with her. She was a Force-user after all.

"Seryna Merek," he said, nodding politely. "You couldn't have picked a more exposed location."

"I have nothing to hide," she said, fixing a strand of hair that fell loose from her tight bun. "I hope you don't mind being seen here."

He laughed internally. "Young lady, I  _live_  off Sith credits. My only concern is whether you'll make it worth my time."

She smiled mischievously, or at least tried to, and lead him down a bridge over the main skylanes.

"This isn't an easy task I'm asking you but since you've worked with him before you would have no problem getting close to him," she said.

"We were only on missions together. The man went lone-wolf, it won't be easy to go near him without a good reason."

Indeed, Drake Riden would want something in return. A Republic infiltrator's head on a platter, for example. Drake killed Jedi like nobody's business and this Merek girl was going down a dangerous road, phishing for information on her dead colleagues like that. She thought she was safe.

"Pretend that you want to hunt with him again, follow his leads on the Jedi but instead you will report to me."

"A sound plan, ma'am. But I know Riden, he would have me dead the second he suspects something." He stopped walking, thumbs hooked to his belt, and paused for effect. "I accepted this deal because he caused me a lot of expenses over the years. So in case I'm being screwed by a pretty-looking rookie I want some hard evidence to work with."

Hands propped on her hips she looked him up and down then reached into a pant-pocket.

"I stole this from a Sith Agent who collected it from that Jedi in the Entertainment District. It's locked and encrypted... It could be a valuable lead."

Smirking beneath his helmet, Lodius extended his gloved hand to take the datachip. Merek gave it to him and sniffled nervously, nostrils flaring.  _Gotcha._

"I believe that could work," he said with a reassuring tone. He turned the chip around between his fingers. "Are you sure this is legit?"

Her cheeks flushed a little, it was hard to tell with the sun in her face. "The Agent who found it is dead."

He could twist her neck and be done with her right now, obtain a substantial prize and move on. But this ran deeper than he thought. If she was watching the back of some teenage Jedi trash bag then there was probably someone else watching  _her_  ass. The answer could be on that datachip that was now safely stowed in his gauntlet reader. He needed a good slicing computer though.

Or he could gain her trust, bring her defenses down and her mind would be his to command. Lodius was no Force-user, far from it. But he also wasn't reluctant to the usage of psychic abilities when it served his purpose.

"So," she sighed, "bring me information on his progress, then let me deal with the Jedi. By no means should we make contact while in his presence."

 _Of course not, why would you show yourself rescuing your friends?_  Lodius smiled again, acting on his emotions to seem trustworthy.

"You won't be disappointed, Seryna."

The girl nodded sharply and looked him through his visor before averting her eyes as she walked back to the Sith temple. Headquarter, Library, City Hall. He wasn't sure what she was doing there if not playing dumb and not betray her true beliefs in front of Sith masters. Wasn't his business.

The datachip now, it had to contain vital information on the Jedi operations if she was so nervous to let it go. There was only one person he could rely on to get that data retrieval and it was quite a walk away, past the Commerce District and into the lower levels. He got onto his speederbike and headed down, under the bridge and into the fog of exhaust gases. The deeper he went and the brighter Coruscant looked, because it was night time and all the lights were turned on. Only the lowest places of Undercity were left in the dark, because of how much living there plain sucked.

So he entered one of the smallest hardware shop of the lower levels, a family business at first, bought off for a couple thousands and finally converted into a spare parts and computer fixing place. There was no one at the counter but he heard hydraulic tools being used in the back. Slipping his tall figure between shelves and small doors he finally got to the private hangar room where Tessan was working on her machines. She stopped soldering whatever she was fixing and lifted a pair of goggles from her purple eyes. Lodius smiled back at her.

"You weren't supposed to show up until tomorrow."

He lifted his helmet off and she threw her green lekku over her shoulders to give him a hug. She wore a loose shirt and a tool belt that looked at odds with her tiny skirt and combat boots.

"A last minute job." He looked over at the engine parts that were still fuming. "Where's dad?"

She lit up a smoke and made a thoughtful pout. "Haven't seen him since we dropped your sister off in the high skies. I hope he's not stalking her... again."

And there would be no need. He was already watching Drake so he could already assume what she was  _not_  up to.

"If she was in trouble she would let you know."

"That's what I keep repeating myself." She walked carefully across the workshop to reach a kitchenette in the far corner, pouring a cup of caf and handing it to him. "And how about you, anything I can do to help?"

"As a matter of fact, I could use your code-cracking skills."

She inspected the chip and went to sit at her cluttered desk where her terminal was. The screen filled with green text and kept scrolling down for a moment. Lodius tasted the hot caf, appreciating the effect it had on his mood.

"Are you hungry, baby? I can fix you up something real quick."

"That's okay, mom." He smiled thankfully. "But I got dinner plans tonight."

"Bring some rice cake with you anyway."

He had to nod and smile reassuringly: his no-face-in-public rule made it impossible for him to have a normal meal in the presence of others... besides family. The scrolling of text stopped and he got closer to read whatever names appeared. There were a few conversation logs, credit transactions, HoloNet program recordings, shuttle fares and schedules... It sure was plenty.

"Wonderful. Could you copy those for me?"

"I can translate them into  _mando'a_."

He paused and looked her sideways. "But... you wouldn't do that. I may need to share this intel with other people."

"Of course, I'm just kidding. And who else would be interested in this?"

"Drake, for one. We're still trying to flush out the spies."

After she copied the data she stared blankly at the wall for a few seconds.

"You be careful out there. If I could still fit in my armor I wouldn't be able to sit around and beat myself over how both my kids ended up playing with that Sith." She gave him the datachips and got up, pulling another wisp of her smoke. "I still want to have this get-together on Ord Mantell, with everyone including him. Might as well make him officially part of the clan."

"I can see how that would benefit our situation here," he replied cautiously. "I'll have to bring that up to him."

She smiled and went back to her mechanic work, squatting down to pick up her plasma torch.

"So what is that engine for?" Lodius asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, that. Some kid stalled around the corner and brought his swoop here. Told him I'd take a look."

He laughed, genuinely amused at the thought. Tessan was, despite her age, still a very attractive and desirable Twi'lek. Or maybe it was the tough talk and the tool belt that did the trick. But compared to the fresh meat on the market she didn't get as much attention as she used to, and mid-life crisis didn't help. It probably explained the outrageously short skirt.

"Well I'll let you to it, ma'. Just make sure you don't send off the wrong message with this sort of favor."

She slid her goggles back on and grinned, looking completely goofy. "If you contact your sister tell her to bring some groceries, for once."

As he walked away he remembered to pick up a piece of rice cake in the refrigerator, wrapped up in flimsi. Helmet back in place, Lodius left the shop, carrying precious information and high spirits for his next task.

Finding Drake was easy, the man had his own apartment near the Entertainment District where he usually patrolled, sometimes with others, Lodius was certain he could bump into him just by walking down the main boulevard. And it was night time, the perfect setting for a Sith in dark armor to meet his cooperator.

"The plan seems to be working."

"She felt the need to give me this on our first meeting."

He stood a little shorter than him, actually, but his posture and the menacing air of his mask could make anyone shake in their boots. Lodius handed him the chip and leaned casually against the lamppost in the alley. Around the corner there was a club and a snack bar. His stomach growled.

"What does she intend to do once we have this?" The man's voice sounded raspy because of electronic filters. It was actually a casual tone for a man in his early thirties.

"We're supposed to go after Jedi, and she plans to rescue them. One by one."

"She thinks she has it all figured out..." Drake held the datachip between them in some kind of reprimanding way. "Whatever's on this can be used against us. They know what it contains and they'll base their next action according to what they assume that we know from it." He paused and handed it back to Lodius. "Was she comfortable in your presence?"

"Hard to say at this time. She's a manipulator too, after all."

"Bring her down a notch," Drake said with an amused overtone. "Those female Jedi love a challenge and will do whatever it takes to gain your trust and respect."

"Do you speak from personal experience?" Lodius attempted, almost regretting the question as he spoke.

"They'd be sorry for themselves if they still lived." He seemed to be pressed by time and even looked over his shoulder. "Be on your way. I'll contact you as soon as I got time for the Jedi spy."

"Drake."

He froze on his speederbike, ready to start the engines and he turned his hooded head towards Lodius.

"Take care of my sister."

Drake acknowledged him with a nod, and flew away in a burst of speed. Mom's dinner party invitation would have to wait. Stowing the chip in his gauntlet again he noticed a weight on his boot. A rat. It was eating crumbs that had fallen from his belt pouch, where the rice cake seemed to have been crushed in transport. Lodius dropped some more of the pastry so that a little vermin could fill its belly that night.

The thought of himself sharing his food with a rat made him wonder what Daen was up to, if she was cooking or would she go out to a nice place for a date with her secret boyfriend. They could both shed the armor and act as a normal couple.  _Stick to the job_ , he told himself. But it was club night, so he could salvage the day doing a little recon where Jedi were last seen.

With Seryna Merek's photo -among others - blown up large on his datapad he entered the one of the strip clubs hoping someone would recognize her. Actually he had a pretty good idea of where to look. The possible witness was this young blue-skinned Twi'lek that Drake had found crying over the dead Jedi. What was her name again? Leny? Lyra? Loogy? After a few attempts requesting his demand to the waitress she finally nodded and lead him into the hallway. The music was deafening but he filtered it out through his sensor monitors. There weren't many patrons around, sadly, to help with his investigation. The Agents must've scared most of them away.

So he was brought to a lounging room where he waited until the former Jedi's Twi'lek love interest came into the doorframe, looking frail and tired.

"Wh-who are you?" she stuttered.

Lodius presented his palms up in sign of peace. "I'm Lodius Cera. I work with Drake, we're trying to find the other Jedi who may have come here. Care to look at a few pictures?"

She carefully came closer to look at the stream of pictures on his datapad. She stopped and came back a few times on some of them, but then shaking her head.

"I already told everything I know to the others. Sorry."

Lodius watched her shrug and turn around to leave. He was far from done. "But you want to help  _me_  this time, because if the Jedi find out that you ratted on Harek, they'll come after you. And you won't see it coming because they'd be wearing Imperial uniforms."

The dancer wasn't going to turn on him this time, not with that little brain of hers. She faced him again and nodded a few times. "I remember seeing the blond woman before."

"Good. Where?"

"I dunno, she just looks familiar." That shrug again.

"Was she a friend of Harek's?"

Biting her lower lip, furrowing her brow she seemed in deep concentration. And that was saying a lot for her kind. "I only recall Harek being upset about her for some reason. They had an argument or something."

Ah... So Harek was a dissident Jedi who wanted to enjoy himself instead of going undercover like it was asked of him. Lodius nodded approvingly to the girl and patted her head. Young creatures always liked a reward.

"That's a precious information. Thank you..."

"Liina."

"Hm?"

"That's my name," she explained with an eager expression on her grinning face. "Do you need more help? I can give you a lap dance, or I can look at more pictures..."

_Great. A clinger._

"Well sadly, Liina, I'm heading out for supper. And I doubt your boss would let you accompany me on your business hours."

She grabbed his arm, all excited as if she had won the lottery. But there was no lottery, just the emotional aftermath of being mind-influenced by an Umbaran. Lodius cringed and closed his eyes for a second.

"But I just got off work!" she said. "Take me with you, Lodius Cera. Please, please, _please, please, PLEASE!_ "

"Okay... OKAY."

She squeeled. " _Yay!_ "

The trip back to his apartment was of the most uncomfortable and unsettling, with the frantic blue thing attached to his hand. He had had other experiences of the same sort but on the moment was always more of an inconvenience. He didn't mind it so much that night, he would feel a little less lonely, and she would be gone in the morning, hopefully a little amnesic, too.

So he returned into the hazardous little elevator cabin, listening to Liina telling him about her beefs with other dancers, how she missed Harek so much after he got slotted, more for his HoloNet presence than his actual body. He also found out that she was trying to quit deathsticks but grief made it difficult.

"It's not grief," he said, fighting a yawn, "it's your miserable life."

And right there she started sobbing. Lodius let out an exaggerated  _aww_  and let her cry on his chestplate all the way up to his apartment door.

It was very dark inside, from having no window to the outside and only the few little lights of appliances and electronics were giving a sense of space in there.

Liina giggled. "Where's the light switch?"

In a matter of seconds, he realized he wouldn't like admitting to have brought a Twi'lek dancer home, letting her eat and speak to him in the midst of his privacy. He removed his helmet and kissed her, removing any ambiguity regarding his intentions. As expected she did not reject him and did not object as she got taken into his room and thrown on the bed. She even helped him undo his complex armor straps in near complete darkness, something he was sure he would regret later, and soon they were both in the nude. He let her taste him and feel him against her but she was too drunk with some kind of hypnosis effect to realize what or who he was.

Lodius didn't care about the ethics of his methods for mating more than how he handled his hunting tactics. It was all about the moment and he enjoyed feeling Liina's warm loins while she clung to his neck as if there was no tomorrow. At least, he thought smiling to himself, she had stopped talking, and the rocking sound on the mattress was drowning out the rat noises in the wall. Then out of nowhere it struck him that it was difficult to lay with Twi'leks because of their lekku, they couldn't lay on their back comfortably. And turning them the other way made it just too weird, Lodius didn't like how those things shook and shivered, it was plain wrong.

When it was over the rats decided to go back to their tunneling and Liina didn't seem to care, she lied on top of him, blissful. "It was wonderful, Lodius."

He sighed audibly. "Don't mention it."

His stomach complained again and it made her giggle. That annoying little squeaky voice for animated holotoon characters that aired every morning. He eventually ate the rest of his rice cake alone in the kitchen while reading the decrypted datachip. His attention lingered on a call history; he could find out who those numbers belonged to and he was ready to bet that one of them was Seryna's unless she had erased it. Either way, those comlink numbers were obviously leading somewhere and if this was a trap then she would be watching his every move. That was not acceptable, he would have to teach that Jedi a lesson.

Putting his armor back on in the dark thanks to his well-adjusting eyes, and once he was wearing his helmet again nudged Liina who was asleep on his bed. She moaned sleepily.

"Okay, time to go."

She stretched like a feline and he switched the lights on. She squinted, he didn't even flinch thanks to the flash dampers on his visor and savored the sight of her body one last time. She truly had some appeal, but she was so young and dumb as rocks.

"No, I'm staying," she said, smiling and trying to get him to be nice.

He pulled his blaster out of its holster, and held it at his side as a threat. "I'm a hunter. Bad shit happens all the time here so you don't want to be in the way."

"Fine, I get it." She started pouting and got off the bed to put on her underwear. "Where should I go now? My boss is gonna kill me for leaving the house."

"You've got to be kidding me..."

"I don't go out with just any guy, ya know? You said you knew Drake, and he's a friend.  _And_  you're a polite gentleman. That's the perfect gig."

He needed to bang his head against the wall a few times, or slap himself real hard. Of all the people he could screw that day, he had to go and get himself a complete nut case.

"Take your chances with your boss, or get killed here either way," he growled, hoping she'd freak out and run.

The pathetic blue thing started crying again and looked up at him with angry eyes. No, Lodius told himself, there was no way he'd keep such a stupid creature in his life, it was bad for business. Bad for the family. He pointed his weapon to her head.

"Sorry but you really can't stay."

Afraid at first, she took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Do it," she said, her voice cracking. "I never had the courage to do it myself."

He thought of himself splashing his walls with blood and brains, then taking the body to a dumpster and finally scrubbing his apartment clean. That was not Lodius Cera, loyal contractor of the Empire, Jedi hunter and bringer of hard justice. He'd have to deal with her later, as humanely as his nerve would allow him.

"Lock yourself up. Speak to no one and don't leave until I come back."

He braced for an agitated series of hugs and praises. She was, after all, never going back to that whore house again. The Jedi would find the way to make her spit out the truth about him, and his deal would be compromised.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The dark halls of the Sith Temple were in their usual silent state even with the occasional clashing of weapons, Cotorsis blades, that the adepts practiced fencing with. Drake entered the duel room and watched two black-clad men fighting and they were giving quite a show for a couple of teenagers. One of the watchers across the ring drew his attention; the short Zabrak with the hood down, he was looking straight at him. After the fight was over – the defeated asked for mercy, which he was denied – Drake followed the crowded of red-trimmed cloaks out of the room an adjacent hall where none would follow. There was a lot of light because of the high windows on this part of the templed.

"I hope your little exploits have earned you much fear and respect."

He turned around and saw the tattooed man's face smiling sardonically. There wasn't much blue left between the black markings. Drake greeted him with a lowered brow. "What exploits? I was taking out the trash."

"Of course," Nial politely replied with a nod. "No one would want to see their target lost to the hands of the garbage man."

"Ouch." Drake feigned offense. "I'm sorry to hear that, my friend. Got to have eyes everywhere."

Whatever amusement was left in the Zabrak's eyes suddenly faded and Drake felt a cold knot climb up his throat. Despite his shortness Nial went up to him, face to face, menacing. He could have sworn his irises had gone from brown to amber.

"I'm warning you, Riden. My time will come and I'll be first in line to rip your treacherous little heart out."

"Good. I need my enemies where I can see them." Drake took a step aside to walk down the hall, expecting to be followed. "Lunch?"

Nial stretched his lips in a solemn expression. "Yes."

There was a mess hall in the Sith Temple for the occasional officers, foot-soldiers and guards working there everyday but Drake would have none of it. Actually most Sith would rather starve themselves than to mix with ordinary folk, which was a good enough excuse to get away from the hierarchy once in a while.

They walked out of the Temple with ease, everybody looked the same in uniform, especially when masks were involved, while Inquisitors or Sith Lords generally dared wander with their faces uncovered. Drake liked the freedom that he had just by not sticking out from the crowd of spooky figures. And fear had its undeniable advantages.

"These habits will get us killed someday," remarked Nial before biting down on a hot, greasy nerf steak roll. "In all possible ways."

Drake finished munching on the spicy mix of meat, cereals and bread, and swallowed it down with difficulty. "Poetic. That's one more missed calling for you, Lord Nial."

He sensed gazes and heard all sort of curious comments around them in the diner. It wasn't a restaurant or a caf tap. Just a low profile joint for underpaid citizens, privateers and the occasional smuggler. Nial raised a black-gloved hand towards the waitress, but the forty-something year old beauty stayed behind the counter. The owner came instead. Fat old Weequay in his grease-stained apron and mean scars across his exceedingly creased skin. Letting out an audible sigh, Drake took another bite of his lunch and avoided staring directly into the chef's eyes.

"Tell me something," he said, fists resting on his hips. "For how long am I going to have you boys frighten my costumers? Do yourselves a favor and meet up with your friends in upper class establishments."

Nial cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "No one looks frightened to me, chef. Now relax, and have your lady bring us a jug of tea. She will be rewarded."

The Weequay flared his nostrils then sharply turned his head towards Drake, waiting for a different kind of answer.

"Whorehouses don't open 'till five," he shrugged.

"And people wonder where their tax money is going..." The owner rambled off, going back to his stoves. When he left they didn't seem to have an audience anymore.

Drake would have wanted to say that this was work for him, all the time. He would have also wanted to remind them all that he was protecting these citizens by being among them. And if they stopped being so self-righteously outraged about that and just accepted that they weren't able to take care of themselves, things would go much more smoothly. But no one cared about justifications and rationale, not in this time and place. A Sith would have jumped on the occasion to affirm his power over the people and punished whoever stood in his way, because confrontations caused chaos, and chaos brought opportunities for power. He just wanted his homeworld to be safe. Smugglers, armed gangs and drug dealers just didn't work in his direction, and so he would keep on having his lunches at their meeting spots until they'd take the hint.

The Twi'lek eventually served them tea under the unveiled contemplation of a tactless Sith Zabrak.

"You should talk to her." Drake sipped on his cup and burnt his tongue. "She can't reject you, not in the first hour at least."

Nial emitted a puff in disbelief. "Got no time for these games, Riden. I'm not like you, my mind is ever focused. Distractions make us weak."

"Maybe your alien brain can take the pressure, maybe I like to multi-task."

He crossed his armored arms on the steel table. "Who's to say that bounty hunter you have following you around will never be identified?"

Drake consciously stared blankly at him, frowning slightly. "That's no one of consequence."

"See?" Nial pointed a finger at his face. "I highly doubt it."

Growing annoyed, he decided to change the subject. "So whose target did I off last night?"

"Mine, you inconsiderate bastard. Now the Inquisitors are all up on the case with their agents. No more prestige, no rewards. All of this for what? To impress your girlfriend."

"I'm just glad you can answer your own questions."

"This is serious, or are you being intentionally dim? You can't place your personal business above the orders. This is why you're always left here to rot with the masses. When's the last time you went off-world?"

"Come on, that's just mean."

Nial sank down his hot tea. "We could shine in the Outer Rim systems, friend. No chaperons, no policing and best of all, no Jedi. People there actually believe  _we_ 're the good guys."

"Hm. No more swimming against the tide..." Seduced by the concept, Drake would have to take a moment to consider. "Well, everyone knows me here."

"And what is that worth in terms of advancement?" Nial got up and left a tip, Drake followed suit. "Just remember that you're wearing a uniform, not a costume."

There was no question that Nial had reasons to pull him back in line and before Drake started counting the many opportunities opening for his fellow Sith, he caught himself wondering what Daen was up to. If she had decided to leave the apartment for the day, he needed to have her as far away from him as possible right now.

Nial climbed on his speeder, mask back on. "I just have one question for you, Riden. Would it be too much for me to ask for the Jedi's lightsaber?"

"I suppose you have the right to claim it." Drake got on his own bike and started the engine. Thinking back to the other night he realized the weapon might not be at his apartment, or in his quarters at the Temple.

"Well?" insisted Nial, growing impatient. "Where is it?"

Calling Daen to have her leave the lightsaber at his apartment would be a mistake, and so was giving Nial  _any_  lightsaber Drake had collected over the years. He'd figure it out soon enough.

"You'll have to buy it off my bounty hunter."

Nial shook his cloaked head, disgruntled. "I'll slit your throat where you stand."

"Alright,  _fine_. I'll handle it."

He knew Nial's patience was wearing out and he wondered for how long he'd be able to keep Daen a secret. They moved into the trader's district and down several floors below the surface where "shady" took its full meaning in terms of business relations. Parked in a hangar, welcomed by a service protocol droid, Drake and Nial stood beside a cluttered desk in what appeared to be a mechanic's shop-slash-reception office. He picked up a piece of transparent plastic square on the table which seemed to have holographic properties if repaired correctly. The rest was just random electronics, most likely looted off some geek.

Nial folded his armored arms in front of him. Drake looked him up and down exaggeratedly.

"Couldn't you look  _more_  hostile?"

The Zabrak didn't budge. "We're both dressed exactly the same."

"Shoulders down, hands where they can see them. I've already lost enough with your attitude."

Gray durasteel doors slid open behind the desk, appeared a short female Twi'lek in work overalls and spots on her green-skinned tattoos. Behind her a tall, stunningly white Wookie by her side, carrying a large concussion rifle. He roared something foul at their sight, apparently as surprised to see them as Drake was.

"Woah, settle down, Churko," said the female. Her designation was Tessan Ki, supposedly. Drake took notice of the strange shaped tattoos on her forearms. He'd say she was passed forty but it was easy to be mistaken with that species. "Sorry, I tried to tell him what or who you guys were before, he just likes to react that way."

"We mean you no harm," he replied, looking at the big furry alien, "we're here for business."

"That's what I like to hear." Ki took a seat at her desk and ran a hand over the clutter to clear room for a datapad that she turned on. "Got to say I don't feel too hot about those masks either."

Drake pulled a data chip out from his belt pouch, she extended an arm to have it. "It's all in there."

"Huh." She processed the data through her computer, beginning to suspect something. "Your delivery's not here yet."

"We can see that," replied Nial, sarcastic.

"Hey, I'm sorry, alright? My tracker doesn't get instant live updates on everything happening up the shipping line. Especially not for encrypted cargo ID like this."

Unmarked, unregistered, fully operational blaster arms. Five crates conveniently "lost" out of weapon industries through a dozen relay points through the Mid Rim. Drake slightly leaned over the desk, showing authority but some restraint too.

"Just tell us anything we could use."

She looked into his mask and tried to smile but her face didn't comply. Like everyone else, she was getting pretty scared. Diving back into her computer systems, she made them wait a little longer. Nial stood farther back, looking straight at the Wookie who softly growled in his throat.

"So it seems that your courier got stuck on Ord Mantell," she said, nervously scratching the side of her neck, scrolling her screen down with her other hand. "He's been there for two days..."

"Any starport code for the ship's status?"

They could have been under customs arrest, illegally parked or plain and simply destroyed by competitors.

"Nope, you'll have to call your guy. Sorry."

She handed him the chip back. Drake took it and nodded, unwilling to have anything to do with these two if they weren't going to be of any more help to him. They probably felt the same way, as in  _hoping these freaks would get the hell out of their hangar_. Drake and Nial got back on their vehicles.

"All these manners for so little result..."

Trouble was pointing its nose into his economy and he knew his fellow co-worker was worried too. They were basing their retirement funds on these alternate revenues after all.

"I won't bring you along the next time I need their help."

"Well, those are  _my_  investments too, remember that."

"The question is: are you ready to go AWOL for a few days so we can pick up the cargo?"

"Ourselves?"

Drake shrugged and started the engine on his bike. "You said you wanted off this planet, here's an opportunity."

"Ord Mantell is not my scene."

"It's not mine either. Luckily I have just the right tour guide for us."

Taking Nial up to his private apartment hadn't been an easy decision, but he needed to show that Daen was more of a co-worker than a friend.

She stood firmly in the middle of the living room, arms crossed.

"You don't need an escort," she said. Two black-robed Sith didn't impress her for a second. "And you don't need to go to Ord Mantell, whatever you need there I can send Mak to retrieve it."

Drake bit his lip behind his mask. "It's a little more complicated than a retrieval operation."

"We can't trust more people with this information, Riden." Nial glared at him. "We're already losing enough money with the delay."

Daen seemed alerted at the mention of credits, and raised a suspecting eyebrow. "From what I gather, you two aren't very good at this smuggling business."

"That's why we need your help," Drake replied, mirroring her condescending tone.

"Yes, you do." She sat down on the couch and crossed her legs. It didn't look like a comfortable position with her armored suit on. "I want ten percent."

Drake chuckled. "Please."

Nial took a step closer. "You better keep a short leash on your girl, or I will forget my good manners."

Daen smirked, overly confident.

"Woops! The fee just got to twenty! You seriously need to brush up on your bargaining techniques."

"Alright, fifteen percent." Drake motioned for Nial to relax, palm down. "On my share."

She got back up and grabbed her helmet that was sitting on the table. "Agreed!" She pulled her tongue out at Nial and disappeared behind her own mask. "The first one to get to Worlport wins a lightsaber."

They watched her rush out towards the hangar where her speeder was parked since the previous night. How was she going to travel to Ord Mantell if she had no ship?

"What is she talking about?" asked Nial.

"We take our starfighters to get there," replied Drake, deep in thought. "Hit hard, get the job done. And sell some good propaganda among the Republic-loving smugglers."

" _Or_... Grab a shuttle ticket, lay low and sweet talk our whole way through. No diplomatic incidents." Nial sniffled with disdain. "But let's do it your way."

Worlport was the capital of Ord Mantell, and while corrupted from all sides the government and authorities still remained loyal to the Republic. Drake skimmed the HoloNet data file on the local politics and shut his on-board computer off. It was time for a change of costume.

Sith were issued a starship with the bare minimum, no room for trivialities though they still had a sleeping cabin and a cargo hold. Drake opened up a storage closet to retrieve a shoulder bag stuffed with food rations, in another pack he kept a set of neutrally aligned clothes and light armor, fake ID chips, a blaster.

He walked off his ship down on the docking bay at the spaceport, feeling strangely exposed without his mask so he pulled the collar of his trench coat up. The fresh early morning breeze felt like a slap across his face. A protocol droid came up to him with a registry datapad and he got his fake chip scanned. He didn't even know which name that was. He kept walking until he arrived up towards Nial's starfighter – thanking the Force nobody happened to stand there, watching, not even a mechanic – and wanted to laugh.

"You should have warned me we were going for a real tour. I left my holocam at home."

Nial set foot on the ground with an amused grin on his tattooed face. His outfit was just as alarming as a Sith uniform because of how ill-fitting it was for him. Blue-skinned Zabraks did not pull off the tourist look, anywhere ever.

"Where is your lightsaber?" he said impartially, squinting behind a pair of decorative spectacles. And his multi-color printed shirt barely took the attention away from his knee-level pants that revealed his very blue calves. "Or did you sell it off to buy that disgusting coat?"

Drake shook his head in disbelief. "Sorry. I couldn't hear you over the sound of how awful you look."

"Working as intended. Just wait till we take our weapons back: it's going to be ludicrous. Then I'll kill them all."

"I'll leave you the honors."

Eventually out of the docking bays, terminals and passenger lobby areas Drake stood out on the street, hoping to find Daen around soon. While he did that, Nial looked conspicuous, pretending to compose a text message on a small comm device.

"I suppose this is  _acting_   _casual_ for you," told Drake.

"Just keep talking," Nial mumbled back, not looking up from his gadget. "Master of disguise at work here."

Ord Mantell, for someone like Drake who had always lived on Coruscant, was barren. Okay, closer to country than town, rugged, gritty... all those things. What Drake couldn't understand was the wait, and why he was sure he had seen that spaceport security agent walk by twice already. There was just  _nothing_  to do.

It took ten more minutes for Daen to show up at the controls of the speeder he was used to seeing.

"My, oh my," she said as they climbed aboard. "Did I just step into another dimension or am I at the wrong gate?"

Drake sat on the backseat and looked over at her, smiling discretely. She hadn't changed her outfit so it felt strange to be the one without the helmet and he couldn't see her eyes through her visor.

Nial stowed his handheld comm in a belt pouch and cleared his throat. "I believe there was a contest for the first to arrive and a prize to be had?"

"Oh. I got here first, it's the speeder rental that took a long time, so yeah. I get to keep the lightsaber. Equal rights, balance of power. Win-win."

"You'll regret that decision soon."

She turned her head around and laughed out loud through her voice filter, but Nial's serious expression didn't fade. Next, she drove through the city with ease, as if she'd done it numerous times before. And Drake spotted a few Republic shoulder patches, propaganda graffiti and posters on some walls. He fought against a knot in his stomach: he didn't want to end up in some backwater Republic prison to be humiliated by some Jedi.

"Here we are," Daen called.

They had stopped at a large repair shop for vehicles and ships. When he got out to look around he realized the "shop" had its very own landing pads. Then there was the working force: lots of species in overalls busy around engines, bikes, droids, and even a laundering appliance. His instincts said he was looking at a cover front.

Later a man showed up: human, imposing, in his forties and with a shiny scalp. Daen removed her helmet and he gave her a fatherly pat on the head. He sized Drake up with a glance before getting horrified at the sight of Nial.

"I'm not the one to talk about fashion," he said. "But that outfit just made my brain throw up a little bit."

Daen, smiling up to her ears, made the introductions. "Guys, this is Mak. My role-model, great cook and all around scoundrel."

"Don't listen to her," he said, with a familiar smirk on his face, "private contracting is my area of expertise now."

Drake shook the hand Mak offered to him. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Autographs and souvenirs in the back of the shop," he replied with a sharp nod. "If you kind gentlemen would follow me..."

Nial shot a nasty look at Drake and he shrugged at him. He had actually taken care of looking up Mak Cera a long time ago, when Daen first got involved with bounty hunting. It had turned out that the man had long left active duty among the Mandalorians to spend his retirement days away from the battlefield.

They took a seat in front of a large desk in a untidy, cramped up office - Mak sure wasn't fussy about his records - while Daen stood near the door like a bodyguard.

"I've heard about your cargo," Mak blurted out, leaning on his desk with his large arms folded. "Five crates, unregistered, not-yet-issued weapons?"

Nial jumped off his chair, an accusing finger pointed at him. "Tell us where they are!"

Drake used the Force - yes, it was necessary in this precise moment - to pressure his colleague to settle down with a firm tug at his shirt. Mak didn't even flinch, and just leaned back in his chair with an air that said  _who are these clowns?_

"We could use your help to retrieve them, if possible." Drake said and motioned his head towards Daen. "She got my hopes up saying you could do that for us."

Mak rubbed his chin thoughtfully, not hiding a hint of amusement. "Well, it could be tricky, considering the fact that it's already looking for a new buyer in a pretty harsh side of town..." He looked up at the ceiling, then snapped his finger. "I know. Daen'ika, will you go ahead and call your brother for me? Tell him it's about payback."

"Oh god," she said, rolling her eyes. " _That_  again?"

"It'll work this time."

"Right."

She disappeared through the door. Mak got up and opened a locker behind him.

"So, as I was saying, it's gonna be tricky but I figured that now we have a couple more hands to do the heavy lifting and, besides, I got a score to settle with one major competitor."

He turned around, one pretty large assault blaster rifle in his arms, cradled like a newborn. Drake nodded approvingly and Nial sat there speechless.

"We can't let these crates be sold again," Drake said. "Who took them?"

"Some broad who owes me money. And  _feelings_." He loaded a power cell into the rifle, eyes squinting with anger for a second before his face resumed to its friendly expression. "But mostly money."

"Revenge," Nial commented, smiling sadistically. " _Nice_."

Mak grinned. "Hah, yeah! It's great that you're psyched about it, but I beg of you... Change back into your scary robes. I want to crush these thieves."

There was no time to lose and Mak was good at scrambling into action. In a matter of minutes, he had managed to change from his "smuggler slacks" to a practical set of sand and silver armor with a T-visored mask, the mark of all Mandalorians. He kept it clipped to his belt while it wasn't needed. Despite the looks, the man that acted like a slob was still fit to fight and Drake had to admit he was impressed.

They gathered within the more confined space of a trader ship: a light corellian freighter, surprisingly more clean than the shop or the office. Drake found Daen there, sitting at a holo-console.

"Load's on his way," she announced.

"And Load is?" Nial asked.

"My other son," Mak replied, carrying two small duffel bags from the cargo hold. "You three will get along just fine."

Drake watched the man extract what obviously looked like an explosive charge and waved the thought of warning him that he needed his merchandise intact and not blown to dust.

"So how did you know about the information on those crates?"

Mak eyed him sideways and seemed to hesitate, but shrugged and answered casually. "My wife told me. She relocated on Coruscant... Big fight, blah blah. You probably don't know this yet so let me warn you: do  _not_ marry your hot female coworker. Especially not if it's a  _Twi'lek_!"

The thoughts sunk in Drake's mind before he could understand what Mak was referring to.

"Interesting..." Nial said. "Your wife left you for a Wookie."

"Hey." Mak dropped what he was doing to point a menacing finger at Nial. Drake almost gasped, thinking the explosive would hit the ground and they'd all die. "Churko is a lifelong family friend who owes me his furry ass. And Tessan doesn't do furries. End of story."

Daen turned around on her chair to face them. "Drake, your friend needs to switch the Sith off now and then."

"Can't help with that. It's the constant social alienation from facial tattoos."

They all laughed, except Nial who kept it in, though at least he'd stopped complaining.


	4. Chapte 4

**Chapter 4**

Drake remembered why he thought that, despite all the regrettable events that had separated them, Daen was doing alright with this bunch of unruly people.

The transport from which they had planned to disembark at their objective was sturdy enough to crash into a permacrete wall. Which happened, not without reminiscing for Drake and Nial the way they sacked the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, years ago. Armed and pumped up with battle adrenaline, two fully suited mercenaries jumped off the ramp and started shooting at whomever. Drake had his blaster out and took part in the effort to disrupt opposition, spraying from left to right. There was a dozen or more pirates in what looked like a hangar similar to Mak Cera's.

Beside Drake stood Nial, back in his Sith uniform, was standing ready with his lightsaber out.

"Cargo or not," he said, "this is my kind of retrieval mission."

Mak grabbed one wounded henchman by the collar and screamed at his face, as if the muzzle of his weapon wasn't persuading enough.

"The weapons. Sharta. Go!"

The man pointed a shaky hand towards a double hinged door and Mak dropped him so he could bleed out in peace. Daen positioned herself near the door, kicked it open and slammed the stock of her rifle into a running Rodian's face. She was completely in her action-cop zone. Drake smiled, feeling relieved for his mask so that others wouldn't see his expression, and so she wouldn't get distracted by him. They all proceeded into the narrow hallway in search for the cargo, or the Sharta person Mak was so eager to find.

"I swear on my own grave I will make that whore pay," growled Mak.

Drake wondered what was the issue with that person but kept his curiosity under wraps for the time being. Mercenaries, smugglers and pirates always were in some kind of feud with each other. Wars fueled competition and good business. The group soon approached the end of the hallway.

"No remaining guards," Daen said, bringing up a holographic map from her gauntlet display. "This is the main room, she has to be there."

It was far too quiet for Drake's taste.

"Scary guys," called Mak, turning towards him and Nial. "Sensing anything of interest?"

Taking a slow, deep breath Drake closed his eyes to let his Force remote-viewing skill take effect through the armored blast-doors ahead.

"Ten individuals," he replied. "They're planning an ambush."

"But the cargo is not there," added Nial.

"First things first." Mak walked up to the steel-plated doors and inspected its control panel carefully. "If this is a trap, why would they barricade themselves in? I think they're trying to escape."

"Then let's blow this bad boy," said Daen, reaching for a charge in her backpack.

Drake saw Nial moving up to the door as well, and motioned for Mak to step aside.

"Allow me."

He stood merely five feet away from the huge durasteel panels, going deep in concentration, so intensely focused that Drake sensed the Force rippling.

"What's he doing?" Daen asked Drake, not without a hint of worry in her voice.

"Showing off."

The metal was starting to move and tear with disturbing whines and screams under the pressure.

"Remember when they said you couldn't bend durasteel with the Force?" said Nial, almost with his teeth clenched.

Mak shook his helmet. " _Not_  the kind of plan I'd imagined."

"It would go faster if you'd just cut around it with your lightsaber," Drake told Nial.

"I know, friend. But I can sense their fear growing... Get ready."

Drake joined in his effort with a last blow to push the door in. The noise was threatening enough to scare a Rancor and if the pirates weren't gone by now they were probably busy setting up a trap in there.

When the breach was complete, dust filled the hallway and they could only hear faint coughing and concrete rubble falling on the ground.

 _Show time_.

Drake ignited his lightsaber almost at the same time as Nial did, two bright red glowing shafts that immediately drew enemy fire upon them. Ten blaster rifles against two Sith, reflecting every bolt and sometimes bouncing them back to their shooter. They couldn't stand a chance, Daen and Mak wouldn't even need to fire their own weapons.

When the dust settled Drake saw that he was batting off laser shots from mostly male humans but he spotted a red-haired female in the back of the room, hiding behind a pillar, tapping something on her gauntlet-mounted computer. That was Sharta, most likely. He charged a man wearing a chest harness and torn up trousers that was cooking a detonator, sliced through him and cut the grenade in half. His Trandoshan friend, startled to see Drake suddenly close, brought his blaster pistol up but not fast enough, and got his noseless face punched in by a spiked Sith glove.

Most of the henchmen had gone down from ricochet when Mak and Daen stepped in, and it was just Sharta left in her corner while Nial was taking care of one last bodyguard. The man with paramilitary gear was floating in mid-air, hands up to his neck, franticly trying to pull away from an invisible choker.

Drake turned away from the scene and walked up to the woman, using his lightsaber as a search light in that dark space she was sitting in. Despite being the head of a powerful little pirate gang, she didn't seem very courageous, or even strong at all.

"P-p-please!" she said as soon as Drake stood over her. "Don't kill me!... I have three children-"

"My ass," shot out Mak. "Quit being such a lying piece of crap and show yourself, Sharta!"

She had greenish gray eyes, lovely face, probably a little bit over forty, and sat with a confused expression when she heard Mak's voice. The man arrived beside Drake, blaster rifle aimed at Sharta with clear intentions.

"Take us to your treasure room," he said sardonically.

Pinned down and out of options, the smuggling competitor now in restraining cuffs lead them to a vast inventory of goods. Drake immediately spotted the five weapon crates still sitting on a repulsor lift. Nial inspected the cargo with his datapad and nodded to signal that it was all there.

"Not quite what you expected to get into, is it?" said Mak.

"You know the rules, darling. We take the money, we don't ask questions. We won't even open the box."

"Time to bring these babies back home," said Nial, pressing the command buttons on the lift's pad.

In a matter of minutes, with the help of a strategically placed boarding ramp at the roof of the storage hangar, they were all aboard a modified freighter ship hovering menacingly close to the ground. They managed to get all of the crates to fit in the cargo hold and the ship was airborne before planetary police forces were onto them. Yet, something didn't feel right for Drake. He stood with Nial in the hold of the merc ship and finished inspecting the last of the special issue weapons they'd gone so far to retrieve.

"This isn't over," Drake thoughtfully spoke.

"You know what this means, brother. This world needs to be shown a lesson, and dare I say that we got here just in time."

"Why does it always come down to politics with you?"

"Why not? You do politics all the time. In a mundane, unrefined kind of way but you still do."

"I'm not ready to take a whole system by myself."

A mischievous smile was obvious in Nial's tone. "Not by yourself, you have me. And once we're done here you'll be free to return to your slums and cut-throat gangs while I relish in my new kingdom."

Nial got his datapad out and casually sat on a crate. Drake allowed him some time alone and joined the rest of the crew back in the main quarters. Lodius Cera, his unofficial business partner and now pilot of the freighter ship, looked at him and they greeted each other with a nod. They both had to get this quickly over with before getting back to their urgent matters on Coruscant.

In the mean time, their newest guest with her hands tied in her back, was sitting quietly while everyone seemed to think of what was to happen to her. Drake looked down at Sharta and took her chin between his fingers. She defiantly pulled away with white marks on her face, but that simple touch was enough for him to understand.

"There was no money for you," he said with a smirk. "This is personal, am I wrong?"

"I've got nothing to say to your kind, Sith."

"My, my..." Mak came closer to look at her trembling lips and glassy eyes. "Well, I'm not surprised that a sellout like you would give in to the local propaganda."

Sharta quit trying to hide her emotions and spat back at him. "Same as you. At least I'm doing my part for the greater good."

Mak sighed audibly and spun around in disgust, Daen simply scoffed under her helmet. But Drake understood Sharta's intentions, however foolish and reckless she was about them.

"People are expecting you somewhere at some point," he said in a steady voice, building his strategy as he spoke. "If you truly care about the  _greater good_  you would avoid the Republic at all cost, and find a new line of work that doesn't involve interfering with us."

Somehow those words triggered a tear to roll down her stoic face, then she collapsed to the ground and sobbed. Even Daen seemed perplexed.

"You have a way with women..."

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it?" added her foster father. "Good thing I cut our deal short when I had the chance, Sharts. You're even crazier than I remember."

Suddenly Daen took a knee and slung her blaster around her back to grab Sharta by the shoulders in a comforting yet firm grip.

"Come now, let's get you some privacy. Crazy girl."

Drake followed them into a small room. Somehow the thought of her alone with Sharta was a bad idea. Daen placed the woman on a cot and gave her a blanket. She stood in front of her for a couple of seconds and shrugged at Drake. They both closed the door on Sharta and Daen removed her helmet. She took a deep breath and brushed a strand of sweaty black hair from her face.

"What the hell just happened?"

They were joined by Mak and Lodius. Drake, following Daen's example to pull off his mask, just decided to blurt out what he knew.

"We got ourselves the future mother of a Jedi-to-be. And at her age it doesn't look like she'll have another chance at breeding naturally." He looked at the door as if it was see-through. "She's a Force-sensitive magnet right now, better not drop her off anywhere near us."

Mak didn't even try to contain his laughter. Daen simply looked horrified.

"What are you going to do about her?... it?"

The thought of her not agreeing with him made him hesitate. He tried not to rely on his training, it would make him take the more brutally honest approach and that was usually Nial's part.

"I guess that now she's worth a lot more alive than dead," he said, trying not to sound too calculating.

"Bummer," replied Mak. "Was looking forward to some payback."

Drake wanted to expedite the problem, perhaps even jettison Sharta out the airlock because then he could return to Coruscant and back to his usual business. Then he looked at Daen and she seemed troubled like he'd never seen her before. He somehow knew that if he reached out to her with the Force – emotionally – she wouldn't be there. Whenever he felt vulnerable he would turn to anger, hatred, dark places... and she had her own defense mechanism that he couldn't hack into.

Soon enough they were off-planet, blasting away at light speed heading for Coruscant. Drake emerged from the refreshers having discarded part of his armor and his cloak, his face still humid with the cold recycled water he'd splashed over it. A table was set in the main lobby. Dinner time. This was almost alien to him, eating dinner at the same time as other people.

Daen and Mak were already there, and Lodius appeared with a pot of something hot and smelling delicious. He was Umbaran. To say that there weren't many of his kind around was a huge understatement. If Drake read his data correctly, Umbarans were not allowed to leave their homeworld, ever. It was a cultural thing. And somehow this one "child of the night", as they were called, had ended up among a small group of Mandalorians.

"Someone explain to me why there is a washed-up redhead traitor in my quarters," he muttered, pouring a strange-looking grub in a small plate and handing it to Mak.

"She was having a fit and was bringing everyone down. When she's gone just remember to get a new mattress."

"I think you need to check your human biology again," Daen remarked. "She doesn't even look pregnant."

Nial stared disapprovingly into the bowl of mash placed before him. His black-inked blue face made the unemotional Lodius appear more friendly by comparison.

"I hope you don't call yourself a chef," he said. "I think I'll bring this to our expecting guest who could be hungry."

With that he stood and brought the food out to the sleeping quarters. They all looked at him leave, probably wondering what he was really up to, but Drake didn't have the heart to stop him and ask. The grub was actually tasty despite appearances. It was a mix of main course and dessert, though.

Lodius sat down and started eating as well, munching mechanically while staring at Drake. He wasn't used to seeing the bounty hunter without his helmet on, and direct eye contact was unsettling because of his bright blue eyes. He'd seen him in action so he wasn't without knowing that the Umbaran was able to veer people's judgment and thoughts with a psychic trick.

"What?" Drake snapped at his former partner. His mind was impossible to read.

"Tessan has asked me to invite you to our family dinner party. Consider yourself booked for the next couple of weeks."

"Couldn't she have told me herself yesterday at the shop?"

"What my mother does and the reasons why she does them are completely beyond me."

The two other Ceras laughed.

"It means you're going to be part of the family, kid." Mak smiled kindly, at odds with his tough brow and jaw.

His eyes went to look at Daen, still in a distant state of mind, and she didn't say anything.

"I'd be honored," was all that Drake could say without letting too much of his happiness show.

Lodius took a sip of water before clearing his throat.

"We deal with this unfinished business we have on Coruscant. I don't care what happens to the crazy pregnant female."

Ah, yes. The other woman that was causing trouble for Drake in the first place still need to be put under control. That kind of suspicious behavior among young Sith adepts could jeopardize his lifestyle. There would be no family dinner.

Nial came back to the table and poured himself a glass of water, grabbed a handful of dry crackers and looked around.

"I had to stay and watch the prisoner in case she wanted to choke herself with the utensils."

A silence filled the room as Nial ate the crispy bread, a bored look on his tattooed face. Drake looked across the table towards Lodius.

"She doesn't get off the ship until we're done with our business on Coruscant. I don't want to find myself explaining to the Sith how we stumbled upon the unborn child of a Jedi from Ord Mantell."

Later on, Daen was on the command deck with Lodius and Mak, chatting quietly amongst each other. Drake felt very much intruding when they spun their heads to see the doors part on him.

"Hey," she said. "We're not getting any faster, you better take a nap."

It sounded like a wonderful idea, immediately he pictured himself lying beside her in total bliss. He waved the thought away before it turned into a need. As he was about to speak, Mak and Lodius had their predating eyes on him in a typical protective way of Daen. He gave up, and made a hesitating hand gesture to get her to follow him. She opened her mouth in a mixed expression and complied, there weren't many places for them to go besides the corridors anyway.

"Weird day, huh?" said Daen, hands in her pockets. When she'd peel off her armor and with her hair still wet from a recent shower, his eyes lingered more than he'd usually let them.

"We got what we came for, and then some. We're not entirely sure what's to become of Sharta."

"Please tell me you're not just letting her go."

He arched an eyebrow. "What did she do to your father exactly?"

"She got a lot of our personal stuff sold off to mercs in the outer rim. A greedy bitch she is and always will be. I don't care that she's got a bun in the oven, she's not getting off so easily even after all these years. I was just a kid then but it really got to us. Good thing mom was around, dad wouldn't have gotten over losing his first kit of  _beskar_ to some punk..."

"We'll think of something, don't worry. But I think Nial wants to get his hands on the Jedi responsible for the pregnancy."

She shrugged. "Another Jedi hunt. I'm in."

He breathed in deeply before touching her cheek. She still seemed troubled and wouldn't share her feelings with him.

"What's wrong?" she said, waving his hand away.

Drake paused to weigh his options, perhaps withholding his doubts and concerns were a good alternative.

"You and I should take a break from this. I want to know what's going on in that head of yours, get to know your family and live by your side for a change."

"Wow, I wasn't expecting that." She blushed slightly, and looked towards the cockpit. "I thought you didn't like thieves and scoundrels?"

Hesitating, he paused for a moment. "I was a little harsh, I admit."

Daen looked him in a way that expressed more than just skepticism or  _why can't you just say what you mean?_  And it was intimidating. Impatiently, she blew air through her nostrils and pushed herself from against the bulkheads to walk down the corridors. Drake followed her until they were in a secluded space, the crew member room with multiple cots which could serve as a holding cell but he didn't give it more thought.

"Okay, now we can talk," he said, taking one step away from her. "Why are you nervous? Is it because of Nial?"

"No," she replied. "Well, not just that.."

Her eyes averted from him and her arms were still crossed. Whatever Drake had done or said wasn't causing this, he sensed there was something bothering her.

"Your family doesn't seem to mind having Sith around... If I decline the dinner invitation, will it make you feel better?"

"Please, don't." She focused back on him, a hopeful look on her face. "I'm looking forward to it, actually."

"Then, what is it?"

He touched her arms hoping to get a grasp of her feelings. Her lower lip trembled for a micro-second. Drake had known her to suppress her feelings at times, and this was the wrong time. Her cheeks were warm as he held her face. The passion he felt through her was infuriating, so much that he couldn't put words on the mixture of emotions rushing through his brain. Head to head, they breathed the same air for a few seconds and Daen spoke barely loud enough.

"I don't ever want to lose you."

Obviously he knew that already but she needed reassurance, something he couldn't give her if he wanted to stay realistic. His life and hers were dangerous ones but he had always known that kind of risk. On the other hand, she had enjoyed security and comfort for the first half of her existence. Then her parents both suddenly disappeared... She couldn't handle losing him as well.

Drake gave her a kiss and they hugged for as long as they sensibly could. Her expression was more relaxed when he looked at her again. For how long could they go on living with the fear of separation?

"It's not easy being near you," she said with a resigned tone, "and I'm not making it easy for you either."

"You need to work on that. There's only so much I can do to understand when you lock up on me." He lifted her chin up with a finger. "Tell me what you want."

She heavily sighed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I want... you not to be a Sith anymore."

As much as she was a free spirit and a vagrant, his allegiance was to the Empire and the Order. What ever decisions he made were never for his sake but for the work he did on Coruscant. He couldn't give up his powers and simply turn his back on the Sith. He'd be labeled a traitor, hunted down. Then executed, of course.

Holding her arms, he prepared to disappoint her yet again.

"We've been over this... So, aside from that we can work something out together. After I finish with Lodius we can take some shore leave, what do you think?"

"Sounds very nice but do they ever let you go on a break at the Slave Academy?"

He decided to ignore her sarcasm.

"I'll let Nial cover for me. He's been waiting to take the credit in my place for a year."

"And you believe he would do that for us?"

"Nial might be a sociopath but he's a friend. I'll find a way to convince him and I know that, deep down, he wants what we have."

Her smile came back and she affectionately touched his chest. She opened her mouth to say something but Drake couldn't repress an urge to let her know how he felt.

"You're what keeps me going, Daen. I'm strong because of you and not because of the Force, or what the Sith taught me."

"I- why should I believe you? We barely spend time together, and you become more and more distant every time I see you."

"Don't do this," he said, his vision got blurry. What proof did she need to see that he loved her? "I need you in my life."

"Then we don't need time off. Raising suspicion, hiding... There are too many people out to get you and I can't live in your shadow anymore. If you love me..." Daen took a breath, and he saw a tear roll down her face. "If you love me you won't make me wait around for you."

She tried to pull away but Drake couldn't let go of her hand. Looking up, her eyes widened with fear.

"I'm sorry," she pleaded. "You need time to really think this through."

He felt like a sting in his chest as he tried to speak but he had to hurry. If he kept her captive it would make her feel worse. They would have another chance to talk.

"Okay," he replied obediently.

But he wouldn't change his mind; all he ever thought about was her, every day that passed without her felt like an eternity. And when they were together they were afraid to spoil the moment, to come off too intense to each other or to become possessive. He had to find a way to be with her more often, he had faith that eventually he would get what he deserved.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

She lied prone on the roof of a manufacture, one eye shut as she looked through the scope of her rifle. Down in the public garden, between a diner, a workers' union office and a bank, her target sat quietly on its own, viewing text on a datapad. It was the morning and the place was starting to get packed.

"Of course, you're doing your homework you well-behaved person."

Daen couldn't feel her elbows from where she watched, thankful that her padding and armor prevented bruising from waiting for so long.

The second mark appeared out of nowhere. It might have been when she'd moved her attention to the garden's maintenance droid as they pass by to pick up litter. But another female had come to sit next to Seryna Merek. She was at least ten years older than the young blond Sith. Her skin was slightly greener and the markings on her face gave her up as a Mirialan. She wore a scarf loosely wrapped around her hair and thick red shades masked half of her face. She didn't look Sith, or even Imperial, at all.

"I hope there wasn't too much traffic," told Merek, audible through the bug planted beneath her bench.

"The ride was slow but I made it eventually."

It was all code for spy tactics and fugitives were never too paranoid. In Daen's opinion, not paranoid enough. The Mirialan crossed her legs, her brown boots a dead giveaway to what the rest of her usual attire consisted of.

"The weather is nice, though I heard it would rain at the end of week."

"I hope you brought waterproof clothing."

Another metaphor. Coruscant had a controlled climate, and it never rained enough for people to worry about the weather.

Merek shut down her datapad and picked her nails.

"You no longer have to worry about our mutual friend," she casually said. "I've arranged for an acquaintance, a professional, to deal with him."

The green-skinned lady widened her eyes.

"This is not what we agreed. We were very clear about not involving a third-party."

"I trust him-" The blond Sith interrupted herself, probably from speaking out the name of her friend. "Like you said, by the end of the week... We will no longer have to worry about anything. I have them exactly where I want them."

"What makes you so sure? You barely understand the basics of the Force. You've already risked too much by joining the Academy..." She touched her hand and squeezed it. It was affectionate. "I worry for you."

A silent minute passed, and the maintenance droid slowly worked around their bench. When it was gone, Merek sighed as if she'd held her breath.

"My life is not important in this war," she finally said. "As soon as we have justice, and recover the tracks of our  _family_ , we will be free."

"You are family too, or have you forgotten that?"

With those words the Mirialan stood and left, a bitter frown on her face. With the recorded images Daen would soon identify this person and they could pull out more intel on who those "family members" were, and where they were hiding. She cautiously crawled away from the edge of the roof and got up. It was time to track down Green Sad Face.

"I'm uploading the tracker to you," she said to her intercom. Lodius was listening on the other end. "Female Mirialan, mid-forties, probably Force-sensitive."

"I hate that word," he muttered.

"Which one,  _Force-sensitive_?"

"No,  _probably_."

"She's packing her lightsaber and probably a hold-out blaster. Let's wait for dinner time."

Daen climbed into her speeder, engines powering up as she planned her descent around the bank where the new target was soon catching a public transport. Lodius took a bored tone when he replied to her.

"If you haven't got any plans of your own you should change into something more... appropriate, and join the Mirialan for lunch."

"Okay, brother. Let me just ask her where she lives and where is she hiding the rest of her Jedi friends."

There was a silence.

"It could work," he answered.

"Screw you, I'm not socializing with  _kriffing_  Jedi."

She set her speed to match that of the transporter and followed it, carelessly ignoring private traffic and signals. Her adoptive brother seemed to be busy with doing other things. She really had no idea how he kept busy each day, and it wasn't her place to find out. He was probably gambling or sleeping his life away for all she cared.

"They said they were going to have you take care of a mutual friend," she said, almost barely talking to herself. "Are they targeting Drake?"

"Yes."

" _Yes_ , that's all you have to say about that?"

She smiled. Lodius was a man of a few words and excelled at getting the job done. She also knew that he liked to play with her head once in a while.

"I am not going to kill your boyfriend," he said, matter-of-factly.

"Really," she thoughtfully spoke, reminded too painfully that things weren't as perfect as she had hoped between them.

"He is family until you tell me otherwise," Lodius said. "Then maybe a few Jedi will be happy to have a merc on their payroll."

She couldn't let him hear her or see her in pain. She had to be strong and unaffected by emotions, like him.

"The Green Face is stopping in a nice neighborhood," she said, scanning for a parking area for her vehicle.

"People are entitled to the right to have lunch in a nice restaurant once in a while," Lodius told her.

Daen stopped the vehicle in the crowded lot, turned the window tint down and changed out of her armor. On the backseat she always kept a duffle bag of civilian clothing, unfortunately she didn't have fancy tastes which would be an issue if she had to mingle with upper-class society leaders. This was no such occasion, she just needed to not look like a merc.

"You're losing your mark."

"I'm going as fast as I can!" she protested into her in-ear comm set. She inserted the bud into her right ear as she got out of the vehicle, holding a small bag under her arm. "You haven't had to walk outdoors without your tactical belt in a while, you have no idea how much stuff I have to carry."

"Exactly how is it any different without  _beskar'gam_? You are not to engage in combat without it, just do as anyone else would: duck and run."

"Ah, you're right. Now shut up, I need to find my bearings."

She got out in the sunlight, feeling exposed and vulnerable without long sleeves, weapons or even a coat.

"No need," said the loud-and-clear voice of Lodius, right behind her.

" _Shab-!_ "

He placed a pale, heavy hand on her shoulder to face her. She'd never seen him out of his armor, especially not on a mission. Lodius still looked terrifying thanks to all the efforts he'd put into improving his physical strength. People of his kind were rather frail in comparison.

"It's hard enough to wait around for you," he muttered, annoyed. "Get moving."

"Your eyes," she said, concerned as they walked toward the crowded pathways. "You should wear eye protection."

Umbarans were never used to the light of day, since their home world was bathed in perpetual darkness. Their eyes and skin were especially sensitive to natural brightness, let alone ultra-violet rays. Lodius gave her a coy look, and from his side she leaned in closer. The iris of his eyes were of a naturally reflective blueish-white, now they were dark grey.

"Are those contact lenses?"

A lot of people – human, non-human, rich and less rich – gave them strange looks. A lot of them showed disgust at the sight of him. Lodius didn't seem affected by their reaction.

"Let me guess," Daen said, trying not to let her panic sound in her voice, "this isn't the first time you're coming out of your shell."

"It is," he said, bringing up his wristband to check the time. "Coruscant is the one place where my appearance doesn't trigger a series of unwanted questions."

"I got to be honest with you," Daen began to admit. "I really have no damned idea of where-"

He raised a hand to stop them in their stride, looking through the glass panes of a nearby restaurant. It was in a hotel building and Daen immediately spotted the hooded Jedi sitting alone at a booth table.

"You will give her this," he said, placing a data chip in her hand. "If she follows you make sure she doesn't suspect anything."

"She's a Jedi. How am I supposed to hide from her?"

"I can't do this myself," he explained, "your face is more trustworthy. I'll let you know if she suspects anything."

"Not reassuring at all," she protested, adjusting a lock of her hair behind her ears as she entered the restaurant.

Daen sat at the bar and ordered a water. The bartender droid immediately served her and she looked around, scanning the dim-light room, not stopping at the sight of the Mirialan. She was still on her own, drinking caf. She was certainly waiting for someone. Daen got up, blew out a sigh more than she breathed, and walked up to her target unarmed and un-protected.

"Junia Trokil?" It was the first fake name she could improvise. She took a seat in front of the green-skinned lady, setting her mind into a conversation in the booth. "I wasn't sure I had found the right place, maybe you meant the hotel lobby but it looks like I'm in luck."

"You're mistaken," said the lady, a suspicious expression on her face. "That's not my name."

"Oh..." Daen took an amused look. "But you know who I am, right? Listen..."

She didn't let her answer in time, and slid the datachip on the table as if it was extremely precious.

"It's all in there, though you may not be able to decrypt everything there are contact informations to my slicer."

Intrigued, the presumed Jedi leaned forward.

"The coordinates to the safe house?"

"Yes." She tried not to smile. "But if it turns out that you were compromised we can't be seen meeting again. You'll get one attempt at contacting the slicer, if you miss the time window we'll seize all communications."

She hurriedly packed the datachip in a pouch to her belt.

"I- don't know how to thank you."

A green hand grabbed Daen's, and she had a knee-jerk reaction. Her glass of water fell to the floor with a crash. Panick came over her and the Jedi tightened her grip on her wrist.

" _Easy,_ " she heard Lodius talk in her implanted comm system. " _You had her..._ "

 _Not the right time, albino brother_ , she thought.

"I'm sorry," she said nervously. "This isn't what I usually do."

"What  _do_  you do then, stranger?" Green Face peered into her eyes, ignoring the other patrons who were now paying attention to them. "You are hiding something."

"Aren't we all?"

Daen was sweating, her pulse had doubled in speed and she had trouble concentrating on her own thoughts. She wanted to squint her eyes shut and wait for someone to come and help her. Lodius, or maybe Drake.

Slowly letting go of her, Green Face settled down and tried to remain calm while a droid was cleaning up the mess on the floor.

"I'm sorry if I jumped on you, it's not your fault if you were put in this situation. This line of work isn't for you, young lady. I want you to promise me..." She sighed, melancholic. "Promise me that you'll find yourself a proper job, stay safe with your family and never contact us again."

"Uh-huh... Alright, ma'am."

"Please," Green Face said with a kind smile. "Call me Neriss."

Daen would have rejoiced if she didn't feel revulsed by the Jedi's hand stroking her arm.

" _Time to go_ ," Lodius said. " _Say you need to go home and rethink your life._ "

Usually after an operation on the field she would seek for familiar locations and relax in a place she could call home, perhaps a ship or her mother's workshop. She didn't expect finding herself slurping a sweet icy beverage in a diner just above the hotel plaza. In front of her, Lodius was tapping on a data pad, slowly munching on a waffle. He was focused on what he was doing, and Daen noticed the bartender, his waitress and a few other patrons looking at him, waiting for him to say and do something that would make them want to call the authorities. She had to make casual conversation with him to defuse the tension building up.

"So what's new in your life? Any good contracts you've completed lately? Any new ships you'd want to buy?"

He looked her in the eye and it made her worry.

"I've been trying to get a hold of the new slicer for a week. Mom's coding is good, but if we want to look legit we have to be two steps ahead in the game."

"So this new guy, he's aware that you have a job for him?"

"Figuratively," answered, raising a hairless brow. "What bothers me is that he could as well be playing for the other team."

"That can't be good... Is he around at least?"

She played with the straw in her tall glass, resisting the whim of blowing bubbles in her creamy beverage.

"No clue. I guess that's what happens when I hire people outside of the clan."

"Mandalorians ask for favors all the time," she said and shrugged. "Maybe it's better if you just ask someone you know."

He took a sip of water and leaned back in his chair, idly scrolling down his touch-screen.

"Having ties with this family is all the liability I can manage, let alone being associated with a high-profile criminal."

"You're just being cynical now. If it weren't for the family, the Mandalorians and those criminals you wouldn't be here at all. You'd be dead, as a kid, on that dark planet."

Observing his face, she saw the shadow of a smirk on his pale lips as he slightly looked at the witnesses around him.

"I can't change who I am," he told her, "only who I'm with."

"Well, should I feel lucky that you tolerate my presence during your lunch?"

He silently repressed a chuckle and pushed his plate towards Daen.

"Go ahead if you want some."

"You've teamed up with expert hackers before, haven't you?" Ignoring his offer on sharing food, she took the risk of bringing up a sensitive subject. "How long has it been since Norin? Two years? She's probably still here, hoping to bump into you again."

Eyes down on the table, his face barely twitched at the mention of the name of his former companion. When he spoke, his voice was soft and breathy.

"I only need someone to help us with this safe house scam, we don't even need to meet with them."

Norin Endel had been perfect for Lodius. Most people knew her through nicknames, viruses and security system failures, but never in person. He had been one of the rarest people to ever come close to her. And Daen had received a message from Norin asking her about Lodius when he had seized all contact with the slicer. She eventually found out about their relationship.

"Drake and I are taking a break," she said.

Lodius creased his brow. "Is it one of your year-long separations?"

"Maybe."

She didn't want to wallow in those thoughts but it weighed on her like a burden. He got up, left a tip to the waiter and they strolled down the catwalk.

"You don't need to have anyone," Lodius said, seeking her gaze with his artificially dark eyes. "I've always thought that."

"It's true, I'm fine by myself."

She felt him wrap an arm around her shoulders. He was tall, and strong. It was comforting and somewhat awkward.

"Don't be sad," he said flatly. "There are many different ways to enjoy living. And most of them don't involve having a romantic partner."

She had known Lodius since they were children, and he was always by himself while she was playing with other kids. At adolescence he taught her to be curious about the galaxy and combat techniques. She didn't really know what he did for "fun" as an adult.

They paused at a bridge with speeders docked near the transport hub. A gang of young swoop bikers were there, talking loudly and laughing. Then they saw Lodius.

"Check out the zombie!"

"Hey Miss! The morgue is that way. It's not nice to steal corpses!"

"Man, that is nasty!"

Swearing through her teeth, Daen began to reach down to grab the hold-out blaster in Lodius's boot but he stopped her.

"Aren't you going to shut them up?"

"Yes, without causing a firefight... Wait for me here."

Anxious to be by his side, she watched him take off his jacket and walk up to the bikers.

"Well, well," said one of them, a young bearded human with a cybernetic eye implant. "Looks like the living dead is not so dead after a-"

Lodius had swung his fist into the man's jaw, breaking teeth and throwing him off his speeder bike. The two other gangsters went silent. Lodius grabbed the downed man by his collar and dragged him near the edge, peering down a kilometer-long fall. He started squirming and yelling but no one came to his aid. Lodius bent down to his ear and whispered something. Daen heard it through their comm system.

"Let's pretend I'm telling you something witty and thought-provoking for the eye-witnesses..."

A moment passed and he released the bearded gangster, clear from the edge. They all scrambled to their bikes and flew away in a storm of engines bursting at full speed.

"You have fun hobbies," Daen said, handing his jacket back to Lodius.

"It keeps me in shape, and it felt good," he replied matter-of-fact, flexing a bicep and inspecting his sore knuckles.

"Did you really have to go that hard?"

He gave her no response and they continued walking towards her speeder.

"Actually before we go any further with this operation," cautiously began Lodius, "we'll need to talk about your relationship with my partner."

"I know," she said, letting her voice trail off before entering the vehicle.

He placed the jacket onto the backseat and buckled in.

"Should I expect a change of working terms between the two of you?"

"I'm not sure I want to work with him anymore..."

"So that's a yes. I'm grateful that you helped me today, though."

She smiled at him.

"I hope to help you more often in the future."

She wouldn't see much combat action otherwise. Her main area of expertise was scavenging and smuggling. There was a time when she'd have recurring job offers in private security but no one wanted to hire a Mandalorian for small jobs. The price rates were too high.

"If you choose to pursue your bounty hunting career I will direct you to my preferred contractors," he said, looking through his window. "You have to apply yourself alone."

"Yeah, I know." She veered towards their next stop: the Sith Academy. "Maybe I've been trying to avoid the fact that I lack the courage you have."

"You have courage. Facing the Jedi unarmed and unprepared took some doing, and you handled yourself remarkably. Still, I wouldn't have let you in that restaurant if I wasn't certain you'd get the job done."

"Do you really think that?"

She'd have never believed herself capable of manipulating a Force-sensitive before, although Lodius could have had some doing in her success...

"I believe in you," he told her, an air of satisfied calmness in his eyes.

"Well, I'd feel more confident if you were around next time, maybe give a little mind-reading here and there."

As younger people, Daen had never dared lying to Lodius knowing he would read her true thoughts. Sometimes, he would lock himself in his room for days when his ability would overwhelm him. As the years passed he appeared more in control of his heightened perception which was for the great benefit of the family business. Still, Daen worried that he would never really get along with anyone personally if he couldn't reveal himself completely to them.

"The means to an end," he said when they stepped out in the visitors quadrant to leave the vehicle. "It's the same with people. They are assets to me, nothing more."

"I know you're trying to make a point so that I get over my relationship with Drake."

"I'm not the right person to ask about these things."

They walked towards the main entrance of the enormous black pyramid. The passers-by were all somehow related to the Sith, sporting black robes or gray Imperial uniforms. Lodius kept his eyes to the ground, hands casually hidden in his trouser pockets. Unlike him, Daen couldn't help but make eye-contact with everyone walking around them. She received nothing but menacing or scornful glares.

"This place sucks," she told her brother. "It's precisely the reason why I don't want anything to do with him anymore."

"It's a shame you think that way." He stopped at a street corner, and she realized they were steps away from the very exposed main plaza. "The Sith are useful to us, they never run out of credits and won't be pissy about details. Yes they can be assholes, but they're not afraid to admit it unlike half of the galaxy."

"You don't know Drake the way I do..." She took a breath, turning the thoughts in her head before speaking. "He's impatient, selfish, and narrow-minded. We were best friends before he got indoctrinated."

She inhaled uncomfortably to regulate her heartbeat and Lodius looked at her in silence. If there were an escape route or speeder bike nearby, she would have jumped out of there to hide in shame for sharing her personal opinion.

"Again," he finally replied, "I'm not the one to give you advice. But if you feel that way about one man, then it's best that you change the way you think about people in general."

"Most men are disgusting pigs," she agreed. "So I guess I should feel lucky."

Another silence and Lodius looked away for a second. "You are."

Following his gaze, she searched the plaza to see only strangers, and failed to see Seryna Merek.

* * *

 

The chambers of Darth Feris were closed to all visitors, only the Sith himself ever stepped in. So, waiting for a consel with his master, Drake paced the hallway. Each second he waited seemed like an eternity. Even knowing that Feris was testing his patience Drake only grew more irritated. He could have been outside, coordinating operations against covert Jedi fugitives. His allies depended on him.

He pushed the names and faces out of his thoughts. Feris would pick up on that.

The Sith lord approached with silent steps, feet partly covered by long dark robes. The intricate designs in the fabrics were almost too pretty for the character. Bowing to his master, Drake then followed into the personal quarters. Feris, with his head taller and long white hair neatly slicked backwards around his head, tensed his angular jaw at the sight of Drake.

"You do know why I've summoned you, Lord Volen."

His right eye twitched at the mention of his Sith name. Drake never used it.

"This is about the hidden Jedi," he suggested.

Feris nodded once and took place in a large chair behind a wide desk. There was ample room for a functional office and sleeping quarters with all of the amenities a Sith lord would require. The Sith headquarters were not comparable to the old Jedi Temple, now a rendered a pile of ruins. But having requisitioned the Senatorial housing had its perks.

"I want a report on your advancement," Feris said, meshing his fingers on the wooden desk. "Lord Terok has been keeping me apraised of the situation... in his own manner."

Nial's Sith name. He'd almost forgot about it, too.

"Darth Terok and myself have been working independently," Drake told.

When he searched his thoughts, he felt his head would spin and make him faint. Feris had a constant grasp of the dark side which created the effect of an intense magnetic pressure. The old man's eyes were light gray, piercing through duracrete as they peered into Drake's soul.

"It was my understanding that the Jedi you killed was not yours to undertake. Correct me if I'm wrong, Volen."

He didn't want to say anything. The Jedi was on Nial's list, but he also was at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Nial should have sought reparations for the missed kill, at least a challenge of some sort.

"What I did was my decision alone," he said as honestly as he could sound it. "What did Lord Terok tell you?"

A sideways smile twisted Feris's face. He leaned back in his chair with a disturbing air of satisfaction.

"He told me you had your mercenary woman help you destroy the Jedi. She even kept his lightsaber as a trophy."

Drake was confused. He didn't know which insult was the most adequate for his old Sith friend. Backstabber was just an observation.

"Is that not the truth?" added Feris.

He was still imagining how he would curse the Zabrak once he met him again. His perception came back to reality when he noticed Feris tilting his head to one side.

"Lord Volen?"

"My lord," he replied mechanically. "What you heard is the truth. The mercenary was involved to interrogate the female workers in that dancing establishment when the Jedi appeared. She was at the wrong place, at the wrong time."

"And where were you, Volen, when that merc of yours was fighting the Jedi?"

His eye twitch got out of control. Drake squinted, showing just how scornful he could look. He welcomed hatred and anger into his heart, turning the emotions into rage in order not to let Feris know about Daen Cera.

"I was setting a trap for the Jedi to reveal himself. After the trap was sprung and he was about to escape, he incapacitated my partner and I was able to execute him."

"Partner, you say?"

If he could have slapped himself he would have. Drake couldn't rewind and erase what he'd said.

"That's what I said," he replied, eager to move on from this faux-pas. "Is there a problem, my lord?"

Feris lifted his shoulders exaggeratedly.

"If you enjoy having a female partner along to your operations, be my guest. But I am intrigued, Lord Volen, that you would appear so careless whether you take credit or not for a Jedi kill."

"I aim to enforce Imperial law, as it is my duty," he said, he voice stiff. "Whatever means necessary."

"Ah, yes, your duty." Feris joined his fingertips in front of his thoughtful lips. "It's my understanding that you've become quite reknown among certain parts of Coruscant."

"If that's so, it wasn't my intention."

"Spare me your modesty." The Sith Inquisitor stood in a fluid motion to look outside his window. Ahead sat the large semi-spherical building of the Senate. "This world is rotting under the corruption of peace, lies and complacency. Your work as an enforcer is of great value, but I need you to do something greater."

Drake swallowed but couldn't get rid of the blocking sensation in his throat. Feris turned, his hands clasped in his back. The icy look he gave him wasn't in tune with his sneer.

"What will it be, my lord?"

"Your service to the Empire has been noted, but you have yet to prove yourself as a servant of the dark side. What evidence I have gathered about you so far is making me... doubtful."

"Say the word and I will provide the answers you need." Growing even more impatient, Drake wanted to end the conversation.

"I have a better offer. I've taken on a new apprentice, a young native who recently joined our Temple to study the ways of the Force. Take her as your pupil. Show her what serving the Empire, and the dark side means."

He pressed a button on his desk console and the door opened behind Drake. Someone entered the room, her presence in the Force a faint light compared to the black hole of Feris. He turned around. Having to clench his jaw to repress his surprise, he let Seryna Merek take place at his side, facing Feris.

"My lord," she said, bowing her head. "Lord Volen..."

"I will let you both get better acquainted later. For now, Lord Volen, you will suspend all of your conjoint activities with your... partners. Is that clear?"

Still grinding his teeth at the command, and finding himself in the presence of his target, Drake sharply nodded. Breathing slowly to release his nerves, he eyed Merek once more.. Her large blue eyes seemed knowing, almost condescending.

I've got you exactly where I need you.

The thought made him smile, and he turned towards Feris.

"As you wish, my lord."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Daen had gone back to Tessan's place. Almost half an hour went by without a sign of Riden or Merek in the plaza. Exposed and practically unarmed, Lodius ran out of patience.

He left the Sith Academy, walking towards the public transport hub.

If only he'd been wearing his armor he'd have flown out of there within seconds, thanks to his jetpack, but no. He'd have to listen to his ego and show his physique. He'd thought about borrowing one of Drake's Sith armors, for the hell of it, and feigning to use the Force cloaking power.

He thought about lots of things, sometimes those ideas were his own.

Steadying his breath, Lodius entered the crowded transporter, spotting an empty window seat and waited. The Coruscant cityscape bathed in an orange and purple light beneath him as he looked down the porthole, moving slowly backwards as he felt the engines powering up.

Someone took a seat beside him, and he felt more than saw that it was a female. Her scent was flowery. It completely stole his attention away from the window.

She held his gaze for a moment. He'd sworn he knew those purple eyes.

"Hello," she said, an air of fright and curiosity on her smooth face.

Black-lined eyes and brown lips made her look older, and gave her a darkness she didn't really deserve. Lodius thought her dull blue tunic was out of fashion and mismatched the orange skin. Her lekku had no marks, but one of them had a severed tip. It was a foot shorter than the other.

His stomach turned, or at least it felt like it, and his throat locked. She looked down, clutching at the bag on her lap. It contained a few protein bars, canned soup, and a drink.

The transport slowed to a stop and the woman stood to hurriedly step off at the station. Lodius watched her look over her shoulder, eyes wide. Her mouth pressed with a worried frown she seemed as disturbed as he was.

People had the tendency to act awkwardly in his presence. The other passengers looked at him with judging eyes as he sat motionless, staring in the void, trying to remember every detail, every sound and smell.

The lekku was a foot shorter than the other, which he knew because it was severed by the vibroblade of an Imperial Moff. The old man had tried to rape her, and he was dead now.

Making the decision to never let his guard down again, he silently said goodbye to Norin Pa'hu.

But as he walked through the spaceport and to his ship, his mind ran all the scenarios in which she was led to him. Accidents never really happened by mistake. She was an expert at finding anything, tracking every denomination of vehicle, weapon, equipment and of course, DNA. Lodius had taken care of never leaving any tracks but there had to be something she'd planted on him. They had only met once, over two years ago, and she couldn't know what he looked like under his armor.

Unless she'd planted trackers and plugged into the surveillance in his ship. She would have recognized him that way.

Driven by anger, feeling restless, Lodius scanned the entire cabin compartments. He stripped each bulkhead of their plating, running every wire and tubing. It took him three hours to go through the entire craft, not counting the outer fuselage. If Norin could track him down then anyone else could. All of the precautions he took to protect his identity would be for nothing.

And Norin... she could have been the only one able to reach him unnoticed. Running diagnostics from his ship's computer, he accessed the message outbox. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that the outgoing mails to the slicer had been received ten hours earlier.

This new slicer answered to the call name of Cyno and specialized in trespassing high security locks. He would be useful to get temporary access to restricted buildings, and use one as a trap for a Jedi. Cyno was based on Coruscant, without any ties to the Black Sun or the Exchange. But no one knew what he looked like.

Lying on the circular seat of the lounging area and staring at the dark ceiling, Lodius let the thoughts run through his head. He blamed himself for not asking Norin what she was doing there, having purchased food for perhaps a few days. He even wanted to have gone after her instead of trying to ignore his emotional reaction to her presence. Perhaps she hadn't meant to bump into him, or could it be that he had scared her witless and she never even knew who he was.

He spent another hour cleaning up his mess, showered and armored up. The Mandalorian suit restored his confidence and he forgot why he even lost it. He'd told Daen that there was no need for a significant other in her life, and not what he'd wanted for himself. Having feelings for others was a liability. When he retired he would consider marrying, adopting a few kids of his own. Sat in the pilot's chair he contacted Drake, hoping to catch him on holo but only reached his message box.

It wasn't like him to go unresponsive for so long, missing a rendez-vous and not call back. Lodius knew that Merek had changed schedule as well.

Something was wrong with the Sith. He should have taken Daen's words seriously and become less trusting of the masked warrior. Lodius was used to changes in his plans due to Drake not showing up, but this time he had no idea what to expect.

He regretted ever stepping out of his ship in civilian clothes. He regretted not speaking to Norin when he could have. He regretted not telling Daen that he, too, wished he had someone in his life. The thoughts hung in his mind for a few seconds and he got out on the landing pad, unaffected by the evening breeze over his armor.

In his back, he'd slung a century-old cortosis blade meant to resist the cut of a lightsaber.

* * *

"You say you've heard of me, apprentice?"

Drake asked the question while they were still on Imperial grounds, surrounded by troops, agents, watchers and inquisitors. All of them ready to strike at a moment's notice if any hostilities were to happen between a Sith Lord and any assailant.

"Only in reports of the local accomplishments done for the Empire, my lord."

Merek, her blond hair tied in a neat braided bun, confidently walked with him as they distractedly looked at the ancient Sith artifacts scattered around the halls. Her eyes wondered upon the shining red glow of a holocron, perched on a high pedestal.

"I've never seen you spar," Drake told her, safely staring at her behind his mask. "I've never even seen you consulting with Lord Feris until today."

"He warned me of your skepticism. Forgive my bluntness, Lord Volen."

"Watch your tongue. Someone might tear it out of your throat."

Her icy blue eyes defied him. Stoic yet cautious, Merek took slow steps forward, letting Drake lead them towards the sparring chamber.

"New adepts come here each day to prove their worth," he said, watching an ongoing fight between a young man and an equally young woman. "Each duel ends with death."

She observed the sparring with emotional detachment, as he'd expected from anyone unwilling to be there. Sith reveled in conflict, they fed from and craved it.

"What would you wish me to do, my lord?"

Drake couldn't simply provoke her into a fight, risking to unveil his plans much too soon. He needed to progressively break her.

Raising a hand he interrupted the fight between the two people, locking their movements with a gently Force freeze. They were stuck twenty feet apart in surprise.

"Seize combat," Drake announced, walking inside the circle to inspect the two adepts. They respectfully stood at attention, their lightsabers still drawn but lowered. "For how long has this been going on?"

The woman, her messy brown hair escaping from a bun on top of her head, caught her breath before replying.

"Almost thirty minutes, my lord."

Drake turned his masked face towards the young man, his long flowing brown hair greasy with sweat. He shared the girl's eyes and nose.

"You've trained together."

The boy nodded, a desperate plead for mercy waved through his eyes. He was too tired to hide what was in his heart. Returning his attention to Merek, Drake gave the girl a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"These two are equal in strength and skill, apprentice. Yet, only one of them must survive this trial. Who will that be?"

Seeing the fleeting doubt on her face, he caught himself smiling. He didn't want to be put in her situation, but he had to make her question.

"They're brother and sister..."

"Please," cried the boy with a sigh. "Please, don't kill my sister."

The young lady shot him an astounded stare, almost as if she knew somehow that he'd signed her death warrant. Neither of them had their place among the Sith, and failure was not acceptable.

Drake studied Merek's face. She pinched her lips and furrowed her brow.

"Either they both succeed, or both die."

"The terms of the trials are non-negotiable," he warned.

"These two could prove far more powerful together than apart."

Unwavering from her decision to defend the siblings, Merek kept her hands clasped in her back, staring straight into Drake's mask. Sensing a challenge, he braced his shoulders, slowly taking a deep breath.

"Interfering with Sith rituals and doctrines is punishable by death, apprentice. Do you really want to wager your life for that of two initiates?"

If she said yes, she'd fallen into his trap and he could prove that she was was inherently good, as a Jedi should be. Squinting her eyes at him, she took the silver tube hanging from her belt then her attention fell to the tip of her black boots. Her Force imprint became tinted with sadness and grief. He felt it, sensed it emanating from the young initiate as well. Merek's presence was complex, neither evil nor benevolent, but definitely on the suspicious side.

She was taking longer than he'd expected for her to make a decision. Drake stepped forward, blocking her view of the siblings. He grabbed her arm gently. She was about Daen's size and height, but she stood straighter and smelled different. When his heart began to pound in his chest he focused his mind on the weapon she looked almost itching to use.

"You are not to judge others," he hissed. "That is the responsibility of the Sith, and you're not Sith yet. Know your place."

The mask made most people uncomfortable, except other Sith and those who dared look him straight in the eye. Her fear was deeper than basic apprehension. If Drake had to compare it he would imagine her trying to protect a secret place, he was very close to it without knowing where to look.

They walked away, leaving the siblings in peace until another ambitious lord would try to mess with their heads. For the first time in months, he wished he'd never set foot in that place. Seryna Merek, obediently following him down the dark hallways, boiled with frustration. How could she not sense that he was himself battling with doubt?

"During the time you spend learning from your master," he explained to her, standing beside a small stone-like door, "this will be your only haven. I will show you how to change the lock combination."

The private quarters were his own until he'd passed his trials. Most Sith kept their personal chambers for as long as they wanted. Now that he'd purchased his own apartment in the Entertainment District he had no use for his old room in the Academy.

"I'm not going in there," said Merek, standing still.

Drake stared her down, hoping she would fight to defend her freedom if he tried to lock her up.

"Would you rather I show you the detention block? You might like it there. The warden is generous with an electric prod."

Her face changed. Having spiked her interest, Drake smiled behind his mask.

"I've been meaning to practice on my interrogation techniques," she said. "Will you take me there?"

He tilted his head and stuck his thumbs in his belt.

"Why should I help you? Evidently, you have trouble with authority." He flicked a blond lock of hair that had freed itself from her bun. "I need to know what you aim to accomplish by studying the Sith ways."

Taking her to meet the warden, and possibly facing Republic or Jedi prisoners would provoke a huge mess. Drake needed her as far away from this place as he could take her. They headed towards the exit and Merek was oddly silent. Within his gut, Drake felt a weight being lifted off his stomach, significant with every time he was near a trusting person. Once clear of eavesdroppers at the steps of the Academy, he brought up his datapad, sending a message to Lodius telling him about the change of plans.

"Why does anyone take the path to the dark side?" she pondered, eyes directed towards the skyscrapers. "It's the easier choice when all the other Force-sensitives have to become Sith."

He'd taken that road himself because controlling his power was more important than letting his emotions wreck his life and his family.

"Do you ever wonder if you'd been born in a Republic world? You would be studying the Jedi ways, or dead among the ruins of their temple."

His stomach churned. The Force made Drake empathize with her hopes and fears, since all of her thoughts seemed tied to her emotions. For an aspiring Jedi, peace was not her strength. Being among Sith looked more fitting for her.

She tried to stand straighter and appear taller.

"I feel lucky to be here, and to have met you." Her sideways look was deliberate, then she bit her lips. "If you really wanted to know, for me being Sith would allow me to pursue my life goals. I want influence, and protection for those I care about."

Now his heart was beating stronger in his chest, unable to shake Daen off his mind, and all of the innocent people he'd tried to save from tragic lives here, on Coruscant. He embraced the feelings; the longing, the awful sensation of void and desperation. Expiring air through his nostrils he decided to move on with the plan.

"I can show you what there is to be done in order to gain power. But once you become involved in this, no one can help the people who rely on you."

"What are you talking about?"

He defied her with his stare.

"Putting everything in line to succeed."

He pressed the recall key on his remote vehicle controller. His speeder arrived in a matter of seconds.

"I've sent coordinates to your handheld. Meet me there in twenty minutes."

The bike heaved and he quickly rose above the plaza, reaching full speed. Drake didn't need to circle the plaza again to know that Merek was already gone and contacting her crew, if there even was one.

* * *

Lodius waited outside of the diner, his rented landspeeder parked in a recessed spot across a skylane. The location was dark and rather secluded, a perfect combination of isolation and cover front for the safe house. Using his rifle's long-range scope he saw Tessan pouring caf and making small talk with patrons while working behind a U-shaped bar. A couple of the customers were male Grans and one of them looked homeless. His Twi'lek adoptive mother then refilled the Mirialan's cup. The Jedi was sat at the bar, supporting her head with her arm while scrolling down on her datapad. Lodius couldn't see what was going on but he could hear everything in there thanks to a couple of well hidden microphones.

The Mirialan wasn't saying anything. Her transmitter wasn't active either or she could have been otherwise in contact with others through the Force. Lodius had studied the various uses of the Force and he knew telepathy was still misunderstood and not-yet harnessed by even the oldest masters. They could still be tied to an emotional connection, however.

His comlink chirped and he picked it up, not losing sight of his target.

"Merek is on her way," told the raspy voice of Riden. He sounded calm, mostly observing as well.

"How did she pass the Academy exams?"

"The results were inconclusive," he heard Drake mutter. "She didn't try to kill me if that's what you're thinking."

Lodius thought, and he needed all of his diplomatic skill not to say it out loud, that Merek wasn't the woman Drake should be worried about. If he had been killed, he wasn't sure how to break out the news to Daen. The two still had feelings for each other, Lodius knew and had to respect that.

He would have regretted involving her in the operation if he was sure that they couldn't mix up again. Silent, he let the events unfold, looking at the short silhouette of a brunette walking into the diner.

"What is Daen doing here?" Drake's voice almost cracked. "She can't be seen..."

"No one knows who she is. So, settle down."

She came over at the bar and sat next to the Mirialan and they exchanged smiles before Daen ordered an ale. They began chatting about the location and how secluded and safe it felt. Daen seemed confident and eager. Lodius smiled and looked through his window pane, hoping he wouldn't find the Sith lurking, like a hungry Krayt dragon.

A speeder engine roared to a stop and parked at a distance from the diner. The young blond woman came out of the vehicle, black-clad and wearing a dark cloak. Lodius saw Merek's lightsaber, its silver hilt hanging from her belt. She raised a wrist-mounted device.

"Bounty hunter."

Lodius switched to his secondary comm channel, cautiously keeping Drake and Daen out of the loop.

"Yes, ma'am."

Merek gave a slow look around her, and stopped at the sight of his airspeeder.

"Stay put, for now."

"And, why is that?"

He worried Daen would get caught in the crossfire of Drake trying to catch renegade Jedi, and Jedi trying to kill Drake while believing Lodius was on their payroll. And Tessan was there too, ready to call for backup.

"Our mutual friend is here and I don't want you to spook him."

Once again Lodius was thankful that she couldn't read his mind or pick up anything from his brain waves. She could never have figured out that he'd given her the location as a secret hideout for Drake's informers, where she could set a trap for him. The same coordinates he'd transmitted to the Mirialan Jedi who was looking for a safe house. Not only would Drake be able to spring Merek's trap, but he could catch all of her Republic allies as well.

A dark mass moved towards Merek and her bike, a hooded figure with red stripes on its sleeves. Drake didn't need to speak to induce fear in people but Merek stood unmoved by him.

"I was able to locate key operatives working for the enemy thanks to this place," he told her.

"Shall we go in?" she suggested. "I bet they'll run like rats when they see us."

Something was off about her personality, Lodius was certain that she didn't get along with her Republic friends and would rather spend her time with Imperials.

It wasn't easy to see from his spot, but he knew Drake was giving her a suspicious look through his mask. Lodius prepared to get out of his speeder and ready his weapon.

"You will enter on your own," he told Merek. "I want to see how you handle yourself on neutral grounds."

She looked towards the diner, her eyes pausing on the Jedi for a few seconds.

"There's a Jedi, sitting right there."

They had a staring contest until Drake gave her a simple command.

"Bring her to me."

Lodius unlocked his door and moved out towards the back entrance.

"Daen," he called through his closed channel. "Find an excuse to leave, now."

* * *

Neriss sank down her golden beverage, a generic soft ale, and gave her a concerned look.

"Something's bothering you, friend."

He was here. Daen didn't need to look around or actually see that Drake had joined the operation by that time, and she was more anxious about having to face him than to actually do something about Sith fighting Jedi. And that Seryna Merek person. Her heart raced.

"Hey," she called Tessan, a little distraught to have a close family member play a part in this scheme. "Where are the 'freshers in this joint?"

Leaving her chit-chat with the Grans, Tessan extended a bare arm towards the back. Her face was that of bored detachment. Daen almost felt bad for asking.

"Thanks."

She disregarded Neriss and just got up from her seat. The less she said, the better her cover. Hopefully the Mirialan would believe that she was just having stomach problems. Her head was full of the Jedi Temple stories, how Neriss had fought Sith and Imperial troops marching into what she'd grown to call as home, and her fugitive life in the slums of Coruscant, to avoid detection for her and a group of other Jedi who had hidden from the attackers. She couldn't feel sorry for her, and pity would amount to nothing good. Those who ran from their demons would never find peace until the final confrontation anyway.

The back entrance was a door next to the refreshers and she found herself outside, the polluted air itching her nostrils as she scanned the area. Lodius arrived from the parking pad, briskly walking in his full Mandalorian armor.

"Get in the speeder," he murmured, "the blue one."

"The area's clear," she said, stopping him before he entered the diner. "But we're expecting company."

"More Force users?"

"Another Jedi and four Padawans." And as she spoke, her mind pictured a bunch of teens and children in brown robes. "Is Drake-?"

"Get in the speeder!" Lodius hissed, pushing her shoulder out of his way.

Looking at the door that slid shut, Daen needed to recollect her thoughts, her eardrums thumping loudly. She'd wondered about her instincts and the way her body reacted in a state of emergency, asking herself if that wasn't how all Force users tuned in to their own powers. She tried to remember how fast Drake would react in those situations.

Unable to fight unarmed, in panic and worried that actual children might show up, she jogged around the corner to find the speeders. The blue vehicle was there, in the back. Daen walked the pathways leading to the next block where she saw movement.

Daen turned around, looked inside the diner through its large bay windows and saw Neriss now with Merek sitting next to her. Tessan gave a short glance over her shoulders but did not face them.

"Lodius, what are they saying?" she asked through her ear-bud comlink.

"The same small-talk from before." His voice was a rasp, barely audible. "You can't be seen right now."

How could he know if she was in the air-car or not?

Her stomach knotted as she took cover behind a broken drink dispenser. She wasn't supposed to be there. She threw a glance to her left and startled at the silver and black filigree mask. She hadn't seen it in weeks.

"Gasping, really?"

Drake moved out of the recess in the wall to stand closer to her. Daen ran a hand through her hair and sighed, catching her breath.

"There will be more coming our way," she recounted.

"I heard." He took a step away to look across the landing pad. "You should leave."

She needed to be of some help, to provide support in any shape or form. But at the same time, she couldn't participate in the killing, not anymore. Even if she despised the Jedi she couldn't let them die at the hands of Drake. And Lodius, her brother. Could she still love them after what they were going to do?

"Let me just get Tessan out of there," she pleaded, her throat tight as she spoke.

But he stopped her as she started walking, pressing a gloved hand on her shoulder. He said nothing for a moment, then directed his masked face towards her.

"They're stepping out now. The Jedi and Merek. They can't know about you."

Breathing heavily, Daen grabbed his hand to get it off her, panic building up in her nerves. Drake caught her wrist.

"Calm down, breathe."

With his free hand he touched her face. Strangely Daen felt her heart rate steadying and her eyes welled up. She was angry at him nevertheless.

"You can't change how I feel whenever it pleases you."

Daen tore herself from his reach and walked away in the shadows. Taking an alternate route, she found the blue air-car after a couple of minutes but Drake was already facing Merek, and Neriss stood at her side. They didn't seem to pay attention to her thanks to the distance. She couldn't hear anything what was being said.

* * *

Merek had done what he'd asked, her face pinched with anxiety as she held the Mirialan by the upper arm in an arrest fashion. The face-tattooed Jedi parted her lips in the beginning of a protest. Drake placed his hands on his hips.

"You seem...  _very_  persuasive, apprentice. Not even a scratch."

The two women eyed each other warily. Then the Jedi struggled, freed herself from Merek's grasp and a green lightsaber burst to life. For only a moment, Merek stood there, mouth gaping. Her pale eyes were on Drake as he had ignited his own weapon, pointing the tip of his blade under her chin.

"What's going on?" exclaimed the Mirialan, clutching at the silver hilt.

"Miss Seryna Merek is showing us how far she's ready to go to protect those she loves." Drake caught the woman's lightsaber before she was able to reach it, securing the weapon. "Isn't that right... Apprentice?"

Drake heard a click from his closed link with Lodius.

"Target in range."

He knew the bounty hunter had taken position on the roof of the diner, holding the Jedi in his line of sight and ready to fire. He needed him to hold on for a little longer.

Apologetically looking at her Jedi friend, Merek sighed and faced Drake.

"I defected from the Republic many years ago," she said. "While studying the dark side of the Force, I used my contacts with the Jedi to serve my own cause."

"I'm sorry," he answered. "I'm not convinced you would take such unnecessary risks. I should have you both arrested and processed for interrogation."

The Jedi studied Merek with growing uncertainty.

"Seryna!" she cried. "Don't let him get into your head."

"I haven't done anything wrong and I can prove it," the blond woman told Drake.

He sneered beneath his mask.

"Show me."

No longer threatened by his blade, she looked down at her own weapon in his open hand. Merek cautiously took the lightsaber hilt, never breaking eye contact, then turned her attention towards the Mirialan.

"Neriss," she softly spoke. "I have to do this. I'm sorry."

She raised her left hand, the unarmed one, crooking her fingers as if holding an invisible cup. The Jedi's face twisted with horror and pain and she dropped her weapon to the ground. Her green-skinned hands were clutching at her throat.

"Um, yeah." Lodius sounded distracted through the transmitter. "Didn't expect that."

The Mirialan's face turned dark, her knees giving up from under her but she still stood as if held by an imaginary rope around her neck. Merek cringed and tears rolled down her cheeks as she kept on choking her friend with the Force. She would retain her cover among the Sith and gain recognition for her kill.

And they would never get to capture the remaining Jedi on their way to that location because their Mirialan friend would be dead.

Unleashing the power of his instinct, Drake directed his will towards the choking victim and threw an attack at Merek who, in the midst of her emotional turmoil, did not see the red blaze cutting through her left arm. She gasped and screamed, falling to her knees as the Jedi fell at the same time, limp and unconscious.

Merek's eyes were no longer blue when she pierced through Drake, overcome with rage and pain they had turned a bright yellow and blood shot. With her remaining hand she lit her lightsaber and slowly got up.

"Why?" she growled. "Don't you hate the Jedi? Looks like I'm more Sith than you are!"

Keeping his guard low, took a few slow steps around her, blocking her view of the fallen Mirialan.

"Almost got me fooled."

Her injured arm, cut clean just below the elbow, was slightly shaking and smelling of charred flesh. Paying no attention to it, Merek roared with fury and charged Drake, single-handed.

Rage gave her power but he blocked her every move, trying to adapt to her chaotic sparring. Merek wasn't holding her hilt securely, having not trained in that fighting style, and so Drake easily spun her blade with his own, disarming the young, infuriated woman. The deactivated weapon flew across the landing pad. There was some common sense left in her because she backed up a few steps and put a knee down, cradling her wounded arm.

"I'm giving you a chance to reconsider," he suggested, "and embrace the Sith as your true allegiance."

"You can't kill me then," she defiantly shouted. A satisfied smiled twisted her mouth. "You're not my master... Those are the rules."

Taking a few breaths, Drake held his lightsaber tighter in his right hand, staring down at her.

"You're right, I can't kill you. Not myself."

Merek let out a guttural chuckle.

"I will enjoy watching you crawl."

Drake cringed at the pain-induced malevolence on her face. He looked away, directing his gaze precisely towards a point on top of the diner's roof. A far-away T-visored helmet moved slightly in response.

He took a step back and watched, not without a little sadness, Merek's head brutally tilting sideways. Half of her perplexed face turned to a dark red and blackened, exposed brain matter spilled out of her cranium when she hit the floor. Her eyes returned to their natural color as life was drained from them.

Drake searched for the Mirialan to find her still lying on the ground, barely breathing. Footsteps jogged from behind him and Daen appeared across from the Jedi's body, cautiously steadying her head while using two fingers to feel for a pulse. He placed a hand on the green forehead, focused on the warmth originating from his palm and using the Force to create a discharge of energy through the nerves, spine and muscles.

Her eyelids parted on brown irises. She blinked, coughed, then fearfully hurried up on her elbows at the sight of her rescuers.

"You need to come with us," said Daen, touching her shoulder. "You mentioned other Jedi, and young Padawans. We can help you."

Drake shared a look with Daen and gone were the judging look and the bitterness. They focused their attention on their new friend.

"Don't try anything stupid," he warned, then stood up.

"Who- who are you?" Neriss stuttered, using Daen as a crutch as if she had hurt her legs when falling. Then, her gaze found Merek's corpse. "What-?"

"She had to be stopped," assured Daen. "I'm sorry, we have to go."

He had landed his air speeder around the street corner. Neriss had a terrified look that turned to confusion when Drake held her arm while they walked.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Save your breath," he advised. "It's going to be a long night."

* * *

Lodius slung his sniper rifle around his back and pulled Merek's limp body across the parking lot and into the speeder's luggage compartment. Inspecting the blood and gore left on the permacrete, he looked around and picked up the severed hand before spreading ammonium powder on the red pools.

"Classy job."

He shot a look at Tessan, standing at the entrance of the diner after it was closed up. She'd thrown a scarf around her shoulders and head on her way out.

"This isn't over," he muttered. "When the other Jedi find out about this we'll be caught in a shit storm."

"It's a Sith matter, Lodius."

"And Sith pay well."

It was the truth. With the money he'd make at the end of the week, he could stop saving for his retirement. There was also his share from the unregistered weapon scam. He had thoughts about buying a legitimate apartment. Tessan picked up her bag and walked to his car.

"I hope you and your sister will be far away when a full blown war starts. Daen did good today, but she shouldn't trust her friend."

"With this many captures he can soon open up a stable."

"That's disgusting."

The other Sith, Nial, was keeping a close watch over Sharta and her unborn child. Lodius didn't care much for their old business rival but she had somehow become an asset in the battle against the Jedi.

"I'll make sure Daen doesn't get mixed up in something she can't back out of."

Lodius started up the engine and he flew the car away from the diner, his thoughts full of worries and a dead traitor in his trunk.

His remote messenger popped up in his display.

"Good job tonight."

It wasn't signed and it provided from an unknown transmitter. He received a second message before he could respond, which wasn't possible anyway when he was holding the speeder's controls. He mentally cursed.

"This is Cyno. Can we meet?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"You aren't completely evil. I can tell."

Neriss stared at her, motionless on her side of the backseat next to Daen who was keeping an earnest eye on the Jedi, too. Her speeder flew over the cityscape in the night, far away from where, moments ago, Seryna Merek had been shot in the head. The young woman was dead, Daen needed to factor that in, which meant that other aspiring Sith and agents might come looking for her. She continued, directing her voice to the driver.

"Why else aren't you taking me directly to your master?"

Drake slightly moved his head but kept his attention on his piloting, his spiked gloves wrapped around the steering handle.

"Darth Feris wouldn't see your value," he explained. "You are technically my enemy, but you haven't done anything wrong."

Daen waited for him to finish, herself mustering a reply of her own. The air-car slowed at the top level of a tall building, it's sleek, dark permacrete edges cutting through the misty Coruscant sky. Drake set the brakes on the speeder and unlocked the doors.

"I want to help you," he added. "Thanks to you I was able to eliminate a threat on my life."

Neriss fell silent. Leading her into the private apartment, Daen shot a confused glare at her former partner. Drake, his unlit lightsaber ready, opened the main balcony entrance with a discrete twitch of his finger and they found relative safety in his home. The Mirialan turned around to take it all in; the dark furnish, the spartan decor and her unusual hosts.

"Perhaps you speak the truth, Sith. But Seryna was a dear friend of mine and you killed her without a chance to redeem herself." Lips trembling, Neriss sighed. "You saved my life and I owe you for it. Though I fear you did so for the wrong reasons."

Drake studied her for a few seconds, then with the hilt of his weapon directed her towards the couch.

"Sit down."

Standing straight with calm on her face, Neriss moved solemnly across the carpeted floor and brought her robes to her sides before taking a seat.

"You could have let Seryna kill me," she cautiously added, "and the children would still be safe. As, I assume, it's them you really want to help."

Drake began pacing side-to-side, watching Neriss through the sharp, dark slits of his visors. To Daen, he looked like he was going to strike his prey.

"Whose idea was it to infiltrate the Sith Academy?" he asked.

"It was all Seryna's initiative." Neriss let her eyes shut, her lips curving into a frown. "She wasn't ready to do such a thing."

"Maybe it's for the best that she died," interjected Daen, folding her arms against her breast.

The woman pierced her through and through with her stare. Drake witnessed the silent defiance and clipped his lightsaber to his belt.

"How do you explain the way Merek handled the situation down there?"

"Something went wrong, obviously." She closed her eyes and tears brimmed underneath her lids. "My feelings have clouded my judgement."

Daen turned her gaze from her to Drake, then relaxed her posture.

"The bounty hunter that she hired for protection was working with us."

"So you knew all along about everything?" Neriss nervously clutched the edge of the seating. "I need a moment, please."

He motioned towards the back of the apartment.

"We have a guest room."

With Neriss retreated to her temporary holding, they were left together in silence and Daen itched to walk away.

"Take a holo," she shot out to him. "It'll last longer."

"Not having you to help tonight would have been safer," he thought out loud. "The Jedi believed you. So, whatever you said, it was done well."

Hands propped on her hips, she rolled her shoulders back as if to stretch her neck. She wanted to forget that he was once able to relax all the muscles in her body with a simple touch.

"You're welcome. But I did it for Lodius, and because I actually care about innocent kids."

"You worry that I would do something to them if you weren't here," he assumed.

She sat down where the Jedi used to sit, and covered her hands on her face while breathing deeply.

"Have I done the right choice, staying here?"

Drake took a hesitant step around the couch, then turned back to take a seat at a respectful distance, across from her in the living room. After a pause, he pushed back his hood and removed his mask. He waited a few seconds before making eye contact.

"Knowing you, it didn't look like you had a choice."

"And Merek?" She scratched a side of her scalp, pausing. "Aren't you breaking a few rules by killing another Sith?"

"She wasn't Sith. Not yet anyway."

"You're not entirely sure about it, though," she perceived.

The guest room was closed but Drake kept watch towards it in case the door would come to open on their conversation.

"I killed my old master's apprentice," he reflected. "If anything, for a spy she must have pulled some strings to get close to me. Lord Feris should have seen through her."

Feris wanted him to die at the hands of a Jedi spy. Clumsy, considered who was picked for the job.

"Go check with your master then," Daen told. "I'll stay here to keep an eye on our guest."

"In case she tries to escape, then what?"

Daen shrugged, repressing a smirk with a pinch of her lips.

"We'll play some sabacc and talk about the good old days."

Considered her age and experience in combat she wasn't suited to be left alone with Neriss, and Daen remembered what Lodius said about her needing practice. She had to get by on her own. If things went sour she could always call on her foster brother for extra muscle, he was surely done disposing of Merek's body as well as investigating the clandestine Padawan network.

"I'll arrange for Lodius to come pick you up," Drake said and paused. "If you want to. The Mirialan doesn't have to leave here until we decide what to do with her."

"You need her," she persuasively replied. "So perhaps setting her free is exactly the show of good faith she needs to see coming from you. Then she will cooperate."

"Knowing this location and who you are, what we're doing, she will be tempted to use it against us." Drake shook his head.

"So? You haven't done anything wrong... Except, maybe, killing her friend. But the girl was a freak anyway." Impatient, she got up and paced around the living room. Her footsteps landed softly on the carpet. "Work on your options. If your master is giving you shit for taking initiative, go grass roots and do whatever you need to get him off your back."

Slowly getting up from his seat, Drake appeared to be carrying an invisible weight on his shoulders. His face was more pale than she'd expected, and his deep-set eyes betrayed lack of sleep and anxiety. Alarmed, Daen restrained herself when her first instinct was to go to him and be the comforting friend. They were in a mess because of his life decisions, she had to let him realize that.

"Feris is on to us," he muttered depressingly. "He will find out who you are. Being here is no longer safe for you."

Standing stoic and unaffected, she laid understanding eyes upon him.

"I'll be fine. We've seen it coming, didn't we?"

"He might have known for a while," he added. "So many Sith have secret affairs."

Daen tightened her jaw at the word and decided not to get offended.

"You'll always be my friend, and I'll always love you. You can send me holos and texts any time."

His reddened eyes pleaded to her. She would be fine away from him. There were so many systems and places she wanted to visit without being tied down or having to wonder what it was like to be free. She shook her head at him.

"I'm not guilty of what you made of your life. I'm going to help Lodius find the Padawans and you will deal with Sharta. I believe Nial is still taking care of her..."

"Yeah," he sighed taking a step closer. "You're right, I should face my responsibilities. But I'm not pushing you away..."

Daen touched his face, the unscarred side, and tried to feel it without resenting what he thought of her. His gloved hand directed hers over his mouth and he kissed it, tickling her palm with his stubble.

 _Don't_ , she mentally implored as he pulled her close. But she couldn't keep on hoping that things weren't dire.

"No," she whispered when his face was right over hers.

His brown eyes were drowned in tears.

"One last time," he replied, hopeful.

And hope was the last thing she wanted to hang on to. Letting go meant to forget the intimacy and how his kiss made her head spin. She would miss his warmth, and he would become enraged at the thought of never making love to her again.

Cringing with anger, revolted, she pulled herself out of his grasp and backed up against the door to the terrasse. Unable to speak, she escaped as fast as she could without looking back. Jumping in her speeder she fired up the engine and quickly put some distance between her and the man she had loved for all of her life.

The ride towards Tessan's workshop was swift and calming, she centered herself and tried to find serenity in her situation. She got out of her speeder and untied her hair to let it flow freely, releasing the tension on her scalp.

"Back so soon?" shot out Tessan from the kitchen.

Daen walked across the hangar and joined her foster mother in a tight hug. There was too much she wanted to say and get over with. The comfort she felt in being held by family made her release all the stress in her tears and she sobbed like a child. Tessan looked back at her with concern and understanding, all the while patting her gently on the back.

"It's over between Drake and I," she said, her voice weak with the surge of emotions.

"I'm sorry,  _cyar'ika_. But you'll live. It will hurt like hell, and you'll feel like  _shab_  for a week. Only time will ease your pain."

She sat down at the small dining table, wiping her swollen eyes with the back of her hands. Tessan combed her hair away from her face.

"Did he try to hurt you?"

Shaking her head, Daen let out a sigh and fought not to sob again.

"I'm just tired," she explained.

"I'll make you some tea, then you can lay down for a bit."

She'd spent most of her night life in the workshop's spare room that was barely large enough for two people. It wasn't ideal, but the alternative would have been regrettable.

While Tessan was gone to make tea, Daen was burying her face on her crossed arms, almost sleeping on the table and she didn't hear anyone sitting there, watching.

"Are you okay?"

The male voice belonged to no other than Lodius who'd changed out of his armor. Strangely, he appeared sad himself when she looked up with a puffy face.

"I'll be alright," she replied, wiping her face. "What happened to your suit?"

Fingers meshed together on the table, he was sitting in his cargo pants and black tank top. Her gaze randomly focused on a scar marking his left forearm.

"Being washed of Seryna Merek's blood," he answered.

Right, she remembered that he had killed the poor damned woman. Lodius still wore his dark eye lenses, he'd probably forgotten to remove them since that morning.

"Something's bothering you," Daen observed.

She knew her brother never wanted to share his concerns with anyone, and kept to himself, so she noticed it when he tried to reach out, however subtly he behaved. His lower lip bent down and looked right at her.

"I saw Norin today. I didn't have the courage to talk to her."

Ah, young love. Daen smiled and happily laughed at the news.

"I told you she would come back into your life."

"It's not an easy decision for me to accept," he harshly replied. "I don't like seeing you hurt. Why would I let her put herself through similar trouble?"

Pouting with displeasure she could only applaud the consideration with which he handled the Norin situation. But if the girl wanted to be with him, he owed her an answer, at least.

"Don't be an asshole, go talk to her. You can't leave her hanging."

Tessan came back with a plastic tray of tea and biscuits. The warm, sweet smells instantly uplifted Daen's mood and Lodius rose from his chair.

"I've got to go, then. Don't wait up on me."

\

\ \ \

Grabbing his black jacket he strode out of the workshop, scrolling down the past messages from his datapad to search for Norin's tracker. Tracking a slicer was no mere feat, he had to try harder than that. His signal triangulator launched and progressed slowly as he got to the speeder parking lot. Footsteps other than his own followed him, and more people converged on his position, synchronized and deliberate.

 _Here we go_.

Lodius lifted his head up, surrounded by the same swoop gang that he'd managed to scare off before. The one biker he'd hung over the ledge of a skywalk wasn't visible. Only when he spoke did Lodius figure out that he was behind him.

"Well, well. You don't look so tough now, huh?" The man taunted, circling him with a metal crowbar. His beard did nothing to conceal the bruised jaw. "How about a rematch, dead man? Only, with more fair-play this time. Drop your weapons."

He was aware of the guns and rifles pointed at him, a tall male Twi'lek, an Devaronian and another Human male were hatefully glaring in his direction.

Lodius slowly pulled the gun from the small of his back and tossed it to the ground. He took his time and waited for the head gangster to point at his feet with his blunt weapon to reach down and remove the knife from his right boot. Imperceptibly shifting his stance, he prepared his left boot to trigger his hold-out crowd control device.

"Look, I don't want any trouble," Lodius said, not thinking a word he was saying. "If it's money you want, I have plenty."

They all cackled hysterically.

"I don't care about your money! I want  _this_."

He didn't feel the hit immediately, and only registered falling forward and pushing himself up from the concrete floor. Night time was completely dark apart from a few street lights, and Lodius realized with horror that he'd forgotten about his contact lenses. His sight couldn't adjust to the sudden darkness. Pain was gnawing at his abdomen and he wasn't ready to get hit in the back, and in the ribs.

 _Daen_ , he found himself thinking. He wished his sister was there to help him. But why? She was in pain, her life was in shambles and she couldn't know what was going on. He had to stop being so selfish...

He didn't feel the hits because he'd felt worse, at one given time in a very different place. The Rattataki didn't take kindly to Umbarans, especially not an Umbaran who could best them in hand-to-hand combat. And these were mere swoop thugs high on deathsticks. Lodius stopped a foot heading for his face and twisted an ankle, turning a laugh into a cry of agony. Next, he grabbed the crowbar and planted it in the bearded man's thigh.

Before the two others could grab their guns fast enough, he pressed on a specific point under his left toes and teargas filled the air around them, projected through his boot sole. Retrieving his knife, Lodius stabbed the two closest attackers before getting rid of the ones who were coughing and moaning in pain.

There would be no retribution now. Lodius picked up his blaster and walked to his speeder. He limped slightly and found that he was holding one of his sides. There was blood on his trousers and shirt.

His apartment was only a few blocks away and he was stopped at the entrance of the building.

"Lodius!"

The beautiful blue face of Liina beamed and in turn frowned with concern at his physical state. Lodius punched the security code open to enter the building, paying no mind to the Twi'lek exotic dancer that followed him, sliding beneath his arm to help him walk more comfortably.

"What happened?" she worriedly asked. "Who did this to you?"

"They're dead," he said. "You shouldn't have come here."

Once in the elevator, she touched his chest and her fingers raised over his abdomen muscles. No, this couldn't be happening.

"Let me take care of you," she said. "Like you took care of me when I was in need."

Once in his flat, she switched the lights on - having apparently found out how those worked - and went to the bathroom to open the medicine cabinet. Lodius threw his jacket on the bed and she was back with a tube of bacta gel.

"Liina," he said, grabbing her wrists. "I don't need your help, please get out."

Her sky-blue eyes peered into his, unapologetic, and with an intensity he couldn't escape from. She lifted his shirt up, revealing an already purple bruise patch on his side and stomach.

"You're badly hurt," she said, applying the red translucent gel. It was cold against his swollen flesh. "Don't move!"

He backed up against the wall and she knelt down.

 _No,_  he said to himself.  _You owe it yourself not to do this anymore_.

Her hands worked magic on his skin and his body. Liina was a stranger, but she still knew how to please a man because of her profession and he couldn't force her away again. She wanted to be there and to unbuckle his belt before pulling his pants down to his knees. Lodius shivered and tightly shut his eyes. He was supposed to contact Norin. She was waiting for him to show a sign of life, she deserved at least an answer...

Soft, dainty hands were massaging his waist, running down his hairless groin and circling him, squeezing ever so slightly before he felt her lips and her tongue. It should have been someone else with him at that moment, and she would have never gone so fast. They would have taken their time and perhaps never even kissed that day. Only her smile would have been enough to make his worries disappear.

Instead, he was surrendering to a person he had taken advantage of, having mentally abused of her naivete and was paying the price for it. And no, he couldn't kill her.

Lodius stopped thinking as his ideas went from morbid to sickening, only rushing to expel into Liina's throat. She had to stop moaning. Lodius held her by the roots of her lekku, thrusting deep and only stopping when she tapped his thighs. He pulled out and she gasped and coughed, covering a hand over her blue mouth. Once flaccid again, he locked himself in the bathroom and showered thoroughly. His bloodied and semen-stained clothes needed a wash as well and he wasn't sure he wanted to spend another hour in that building to do laundry.

He found her lying on her back, a hand idly slipped in her underwear as she watched him pulling clean clothing out of his dresser.

"We could make this work," she said behind him. "You and I."

Looking over his bare shoulder, there were no words for him to express how wrong she was.

"You can stay. I'm leaving... There's someone waiting for me."

He startled as she caressed his leg and he felt her warm breasts against his back.

"Will you say hi to her from me?"

Lodius pulled her hands away from his stomach so as to prevent another needless arousal. It was sad to understand that this kind of situation had already occurred in her life.

"Maybe," he replied, practicing good manners. He turned around and placed his hands on her arms, and bent down to softly kiss her lips. Right then and there he imagined Norin's dark lips and her flowery scent. "The apartment is yours. I've paid the rent three months ahead, it should be long enough for you to bounce back."

"I want you," she told him with a little smile. "Will I ever see you again?"

 _Hopefully not_. Lodius smiled back.

"What does your heart tell you?"

He brought his lips together in an embarrassed smile before leaving.

For the third time in the same day, he stepped out in the open wearing civilian garb. By now, hundreds of security cameras had picked up on his signature and twice as more mobile devices had footage of him without his armor and helmet. It wouldn't be long before his registered ID file would be complete with biometrics and a full body picture of him. No, Lodius was ready to bet that it was already the case. Arriving at his speeder, he used his key card and briefly paused to look around. It was a quiet night and nobody was on the streets in this neighborhood. He got the door to open and sat at the wheel.

"Boo!"

At first incredulous, Lodius jumped in his seat and his blaster pistol was in his hand, aimed at the backseat where a woman was giggling, hands raised up. He caught his breath without feeling any air coming in and she grinned. Lodius lowered his weapon.

"Norin..."

The cyberpirate pulled herself from the back to slide in the front seat beside him. She'd changed out of her blue outfit for a set of black leggings and a black neck-high shirt thick enough for a cold night out.

"It's nice to see you, Lodius. Admit that you recognized me on the bus!"

Laying his hands on his lap, he shyly smiled and avoided looking at her face.

"I did."

She sat speechless for a moment, taking in his appearance and her smile diminished.

"Things aren't spiffy, huh?" Her voice shifted to a lower pitch. "I would never have guessed that it was you if I hadn't seen surveillance of you driving this speeder in full armor."

"You're Cyno," he guessed. "I never suspected."

"Why didn't you message me back? I went out to look for you, I was worried."

He turned his gaze towards out of the window and rubbed a bruised spot on his chest. Despite his eagerness to talk to her, she didn't deserve to be brought into the dump of his life.

"Complications," he winced, "and family business gone sour. Had to look out for my sister who just went through a break up."

It felt like vomiting. All those words he never said suddenly blurted out of him like a false excuse to sound normal. Norin never once laid her purple eyes away from him. Not one line marked her beautiful orange skin. It was a rare trait among her species.

"I'm sorry for coming up at such a bad time, then. If there's anything I can do to assist you guys, name it. I set up shack down in the business district, level one-oh-twenty-four."

"Since when?"

"Three weeks ago."

 _Kriffing_ hell, he thought. He'd started hearing about Cyno's activities around the same time. If Daen had gotten him to look for Norin directly, he probably wouldn't have had the same luck. Lodius wondered what the hacker found in him, why she pursued him at all.

"Listen, that time on Nal Hutta..." he started, and she pinched her face to express sad nostalgia.

"You don't have to apologize to me, Lodius. I'm aware of the kind of life you mercs have. Yours hasn't changed, you still don't know where the reply-button is." She used her pinky to scratch an itch on her face. "I wanted to give you some intel on the people you're tracking. You wouldn't join my secure line so, here I am."

"The Jedi fugitives?"

Leaning forward, Norin seemed to peer into the side-mirrors and reached behind her to strap herself to the seat.

"You should take me home, I'll elaborate on the way."

Checking the area surrounding the rented speeder, Lodius saw a couple of pedestrians but no one he knew. He got the vehicle to lift up and accelerate into the clouds of polluted smoke. Lights became brighter out of the viewports as they entered the business district.

"Those Jedi you're looking for, they're not originally from Coruscant," Norin said, eyes directed forward. "The Mirialan, Neriss Lavil was supposed to give them a tour of the Jedi Temple before the Sith attacked and they were caught in the middle of it. According to their transfer documents, they were planning on returning to Corellia a week later. No idea why they stayed. It seems you got yourself a sleeper cell situation."

Lodius eyed her skeptically as he kept his mouth shut. Having her in his vehicle, sitting casually beside him and talking like not one day had passed since they last met on the Hutt planet, his heart was beating out of control. But he didn't want to sound like a psychopath. He couldn't appear like a complete mess now that they were both in relative safety.

"The Mirialan is in custody," he told her, "she might have an inkling on that. But let me be honest, I'm not getting more deeply involved in this case."

They flew higher into the suburban blocks and the towers grew taller. Setting the speeder in the building's private parking space, he felt his throat lock up at the thought of saying goodbye.

"Is that why you're not in armor now?" she inquired.

He didn't want to share with her the details of Seryna Merek's execution and the disposal of her remains.

"That might be it."

Unlocking the hatch door, Norin stepped out and walked away. She halted a few paces in front of the vehicle and turned halfway around. Uneven lekku hung in her back, the permanent reminder of her grim past. His colored lenses gave him an artistic view, and her dark silhouette looked mesmerizing on the backdrop of the clear, crystal-like apartment tower. Lodius bit his lower lip, never in his life had he ever been so afraid and sad and happy, all at once.

Norin propped a hand on her hip, waiting.

"Well? I'm not finished telling you about Cyno's search results."

He set aside his doubts and sentiments of self-loathing to go after her and walk up to her side.

Norin's flat was no mere apartment. It was a suite or loft, he couldn't tell the difference, and he imagined that someone of her stature could only have stolen someone's credentials in order to afford a place like this. Every wall was a window, and every room had its own decoration and climate control. Even for a home that wasn't hers, Norin had taste. It was too nice, and with the night-time cityscape below, Lodius felt a pressure in his gut.

"Would you like a drink?" she asked. "This bar has everything."

"I really shouldn't stay for too long," he worriedly said.

"Or what? The rats in your building will flood your inbox with passive-aggressive poop notes?"

He chuckled at the funny picture she depicted and turned a serious glare towards her. She was standing at a mini bar and pouring herself a glass of green wine.

"I meant that I should return to my family to make sure they're alright."

"Here," she handed him the glass of wine after arching a hairless brow at his attempt to leave. She was one of the few Twi'leks to not have fake tattooed eyebrows, a purely cosmetic detail to resemble Human females. She looked even more attractive without them. "Drink a lot of this, you'll stop acting like a little girl."

The drink was fruity and refreshing, with a minty undertone. Perhaps she was right and he was over-reacting.

"Why me?" he suddenly heard himself say. "What is your angle, or your plan with me?"

Resting one of her buttocks on an arm chair, she sipped her colored beverage and looked up at him, a hurt expression in her eyes.

"You just happened," she shrugged. "Of all the events that I'd taken control over, and the people I've chosen to include in my existence, you're the only one with whom I never had to change the way I felt. You're a challenge, too."

He smiled painfully. Of all the spontaneous sexual partners he'd thrown himself to, none of them said anything like that. Ending up together would be so easy, he barely needed to ask and she already welcomed him to her safe haven. Lodius didn't want to doubt her, but she was too smart to fall in love.

"I'll help you with anything you need," he offered, "for old time's sake. But if this is about... something personal, I have to step away."

"I can't lie to you, Lodius. You'd see it immediately from my heat levels, the vibrations in my voice or the thoughts in my head." Norin got up and put her glass on the bar counter, sticking her thumbs in her trouser pockets for a second as she seemed to regain composure. "If you decide to never see me again, at least listen to what I have to say. I've picked up on encrypted transmissions around your apartment and your family's safe-house, so I intercepted some of the messages. They were surveillance reports on you."

"What?" He reluctantly went towards her, defying her to speak up. "Who else is watching me, besides  _you_?"

She gave him a rebellious glare and flared her nostrils in contained emotion.

"Imperial agents. Their reports got more precise and doubled in number since you showed your face in public."

"I'm aware of spies and snitches sticking their nose where they don't belong," he menacingly hissed, a pathetic attempt at scaring her.

Norin planted her feet on the floor and crossed her arms under her breasts, staring hard and mean.

"Fine, then. Dismiss me, ignore my warnings and when the Sith come to indoctrinate you to become an assassin, you'll be on your own."

He had to be reminded that Umbarans didn't usually wander in broad daylight unless they were official emissaries, invited by the Sith or somehow tied to them. And his remarkable fitness did not help his case. Norin slowly blinked her exotic eyes lined with black, and uncrossed her arms while he looked away.

"You're looking out for me," Lodius admitted. "No one does that."

"It would literally blow if you worked for the Sith again. I did that one last job for you to know where you stand on the war... Let's say I had to make sure you were still on freelance."

He reassuringly replied. "Mandalorians don't sell their soul, but they do like credits. I guess I'm no different."

She leaned on the table, and looked around her classy, high-ranking apartment.

"And once you have all the things you could possibly want, all you need is to fill the empty space."

They stared each other off with unspoken guessing and feeling tension rise between them. Lodius could not brush away the lingering image of his sister crying her heart out in the workshop's kitchen. Her love life was reducing her to a helpless pile of emotional trauma when she would normally appear strong and joyful.

"If the Sith are on the prowl you shouldn't be anywhere near me."

Thoughtful, Norin laid her hands on the sleek, polished stone table-top with encrusted shiny minerals. Her nails weren't manicured, the way they should all look.

"This isn't me," she reflected, "this place, all these things and this planet. Every decision I made for the past two years have been for nothing."

"It could be worse. Fifteen years ago you started off with literally nothing."

She pouted with displeasure at the mention of her past. The first time he'd met Norin, he had asked about the severed lekku and it was the only time when she ever mentioned about her life as a slave, the abuse she suffered and the day she fought back, costing her disfigurement and nerve damage.

"You made a good life for yourself, that's what I meant," he corrected.

"Hiding in the dark is hardly what I call living," she retorted and pulled away, she approaching him. "I think I'm getting old, or tired. And you're standing there, saying nothing like I should be the one making the next stupid decision."

"Come on," he sighed, trying to sound comforting but how could he achieve that without accepting her near him? He opened his arm and she shyly embraced him. Her warmth brought a smile to his face. "We're all going through tough times, don't beat yourself up."

She was lonely, and he was lonely. Lodius closed his eyes and brushed his chin on her soft forehead. Norin wasn't fifteen anymore but a grown adult woman who could see right through him, and he found that terrifying.

He heard no words coming from her as she pressed tightly against him, and the fear crept up within his back, his stomach and chest. He had never hugged anyone before, not like that. And such a long proof of affection only ever lead to one thing before never seeing them again. He couldn't tell if he'd behave the same if he hadn't met Liina or all the other girls before her, but Lodius broke contact and took a respectful step back from Norin. He considered that she was special and he could not touch her the way he'd touched them.

Her wet purple eyes made him lose track of time and her fingers were in his hand. Where would he put it if he let go?

"You'll return to your place, now?" she asked. "Someone's waiting for you there."

 _Shab_. She knew...

"No," he instinctively replied, shaking his head, refusing to acknowledge reality. He lowered his brow and found his hands around her face, thumbs caressing her cheekbones. "It's not my place anymore. It was a mistake."

"I know," she whispered softly. "That girl only wanted you to love her. And what did she get? An empty space she could never fill on her own."

Searching, studying her face in panic, Lodius let her slip out of his touch, confused and frightened. He had to take a deep breath to slow his heart beat.

Norin disappeared into a room with stained glass walls and she seemed to change clothes. He wanted to look and imagine what that show was like, instead he dropped his weight onto a sofa. The night sky was silent and peaceful. There were no buildings ahead, they were clear of watchers and spies. It all seemed too calm, and safe, things he never took for granted even aboard his own ship.

She never reappeared, and taking a stroll in her apartment he found her in bed, sleeping on her side under thick covers and his eyes fell on her lekku. Lodius went back in the living room, removed the gun attached to the back of his trousers and kept it at his side while he sat in the arm chair. If any intruders arrived, he'd be ready for them.


End file.
